Ice is growing in the desert
Tears are leaking from the dust
Snow covers Cassiopeia,
Silk feels like rough bricks
Candles liquefy into cyanide
The souls of men are tossing
In caliginous sheets.
Trying to bargain with fate
In cultures grounded in fear,
Panic and punishment,
Threat and voraciousness,
Hierarchies and tops,
Competitiveness and possessions,
Sturdiness and fierceness,
Full thrust and eyes fixed on forward,
Even the devil is crying
And hides from this puppetry show.
Roses rooted in stars
Forgot how to blossom,
When the blinds are leading blinds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The devil is crying? , actually this angel of light is smiling, cause and effect are the results of what we see today, but the stars roses will soon blossom in th desert, yes, the blind are indeed leading the bling Just as foretold long ago, good poem