Friday, March 11, 2016
Crawling Of The Night
Those who crawl are this close to hands
Of light stretching in far, far lands.
Those who brawl shall fall into the hearts of men
Whose only touch encompasses the light.
A fight is ordeal, a mighty worse factuality
Courses through this vein, these hearts of mine.
Then crawl, then crawl as a worm of the waters,
Then waters will cave in, will cave in, into their waves.
This time, this time we sum up the praise, a fish
Is eaten in innocence, we listen more little by little.
The fisherman is like one of the crawlers of the night,
Its sea was of ink the forestry wrote, the forest of the deep.
We understand what men do not understand, the worms,
The worms of healthy weather, a worshipper will direct.
Never beat my sense, increase this violence, they had
Been similar to the combatants of a war of the brain.
The covered table, this is the table of the entirety,
This managed me forcibly, infinitely, so sensibly.
Topic(s) of this poem: night