Others call me a great magician
but I have never acknowledged that title.
Wearing a black tuxedo
and a theatrical hat
I confidently wave my magic wand
and conquer the audience.
Over time, I have sharpened my skills.
I have learned
how to transform one gold piece into many
how to hypnotize a pomegranate
and train it to control the will of others
how to hide my sadness
in an unsuspected corner of my mind.
Nevertheless, in storms of applause
I bow my head in embarrassment
for I have not learned how to
open the window of my soul
with wisdom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem