Prognosis Poem by Fatmir Terziu
Prognosis
Words are shaken like leaves. Clouds,
plucking stitches,
cup of coffee with us,
innocent buds,
clot tears,
yell in the language of wind,
on the trunk,
underground,
always,
soften thirsty cricket,
Spring!
You dear,
wakes up my thoughts
the tired tree of the wind
window
smeared my calm eyes,
model for your holy dress.
We, as a cloudy vein,
whisper on and over
we reap what we did yesterday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/11/2024 11:47:52 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A beautiful poem on nature on a metaphorical base has been inscribed astutely snd hauntingly. A line of this poem is remarkable and it is........ we reap what we did yesterday. Thank u dear Fatmir for sharing this lovely poem.10