Don't you hear the echo of the hours thinking aloud?
The mute words that travel in the clouds
in the midnight train?
Don't you feel theese wants
of raiding libraries
of raping all the muses
of the other's well-being?
...of rage an riot
aganist your own dreams,
Of takin the world as your prey...?
Drunken by the dense parfum of pain
the poets throw moons to the stones
and howl in their dispair
that whoever stayscalmmed
is because of unknowledge.
Original poem in spanish written in Santo Domingo on april 1rst, 2009
martes, 4 de agosto de 2009
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