In a samba touré from the Sahara,
a new blue dance meets the heat of the sand
and impregnates souls with love.
There is no chance to see God,
but to feel Him in a high-spirited way.
The same tattooed sadness and
its subconscious asceticism are released
in the burning, hypnotic air. All
feelings can return to what they once were ~
cyclic evolution in perfectionism.
These free people,
who are like bluebirds of happiness,
touch a sky-dancing takamba.
Some shadows of the day
fly in the moonlight to cool down.
Old ghosts of memory are invaded
by the ancient spirituality of
the whole world in their thinking grain~
a need to survive.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Such a nice poem, Marieta M. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks