Slowly
Time becomes flesh.
A fatigued body.
The wrinkled blood.
Little by little
We learn how to hear.
We listen to the murmur
With our first and last ears.
Little by little
The power of the eyes:
The courage of seeing.
Of living alone in our gaze.
Evening's sadness.
We realize we passed our life
Watching the passage of time.
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From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem