at a certain age
of expected stability
where locks of hair
shine in the whiteness of
its acquired
wisdom
a love poem becomes
funny to the taste of those
beside you
and of your same age
who had graduated from the
hazards of love
calling it even a boring subject
matter
perhaps what they remember
is the pain
and the stupidity having given
much without
the desired returns of the day
but today i am writing a love
poem
for youth
a haiku for tight skin
and peach
cheeks and long black hair
less the stars
afraid of this shame
i keep this to myself like
a forbidden tattoo between my
legs
there is this secret to
life
retracing the tracks of
youth
and for once retaking the
grandeur of its
beliefs and hopes
no matter what.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem