Aged time.
Inside us:
Years of naked suns.
The purgatory of dreams.
Twilight's shore.
Like a wave we lick the sands
With our last tongue.
The shrunken body.
Even our eyes grow smaller.
We can see only tiny miracles:
The flowers. The murmur.
Aged years.
We're no longer thirsty for reason.
The water of the murmur
Is enough.
- -
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Aged years. We're no longer thirsty for reason. The water of the murmur Is enough......// beautiful expression