Eight years I lashed myself
Hoping a search would find
Some praiseworthy genius inside
My mistake that yearns
Ever closer to its death and birth
Where was beauty?
But in your sea green eyes
Four years ago
I watched you roll the ocean
Down a cobbled Buenos Aires street
And now my memory, like an ocean
Waves and laps over itself
Disfigured in my step back
At darkened shore
With strange creatures I can't name
I understand you and your silence
Lost under your constellated hair
Even now the birds find song
A car tire finds itself ablaze
There is no search, only find
While your eyes carry the moon
Each of my nights,
Stuck on a carousel of mashed desire
I handle my whip
As a lover would
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Where was beauty? This was here only in your poem. Nicely discovered here on the desk. Beautiful one.