Sometimes, I admit, I've run away:
sometimes from myself, more from others,
but look, they, with blue thread,
writes themselves into the pores:
the skin of my memories is like the map
of a entirely new constellation
Every step forward and every step aside
awakened some star,
asleep there just for me
When I'll unfold fully into blue lines
when I'll wake up all mirrors of the Sun
The sky will becomes a circle again,
and the last light that will go out in the view
will be the smile of infinity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Skylines skewed into poetic words...a good write