Flushed of love in the rain
recalls the silence
of the chestnut patients
as if our souls were revealed
to pick up the sparkle of clear drops.
Molesting a mocking sun appeared
doors that lock cold darkness,
rummaging through the shadows
bound in brotherhood
the faces and fists newcomers
shameless.
Shooting at night nor day, nor rain,
we breathed over the fear
of bad thoughts,
I started to talk without listening,
then scanned the eyes
that were alive.
She turned to gaze
at the warm promise
of love so sodden with rain.
He had squatted
the late vanished month
and we felt the love magnet
slipping to a silent night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem