On the occasion of the ending year.
The years passing by…
a chasm deepening
in the cave of my solitude
~
New Year’s Eve…
in the family album
the faces gone by
~
Last night of the year…
another leaf falls
into the fire of my longing
~
At year’s end
I measure the distance
between you and me…
a thousand years
of unquenched longing
By the winter moon sitting
and counting them silently
the stars of my years
I
In his eyes
you can see it,
a wound reaching
deep down
into an abysmal place
that opens
to an infinite sky.
II
I was invisible
until she saw me,
the woman I erected
with words and shadows,
the woman whose eyes
are a luminescent ink,
woman, my double,
with a sly smile caressing my ache
only to ignite my longing for her –
her – an imaginary being
blessed by a suffering she sweetly calls –
poetry.
Femme
en moi tu es l’infini
qui désir être poème
~
Another year ends…
one by one leaving me
the people I love
~
Snow on snow falling…
my heart a well
of incurable sorrow
Torn by the storm –
soaking on white stone
the red dye of the flower
With you missing
this whole world
is the phantom of your face
Cracked like my lips
my cup of tea that aches
for the taste of her kiss
~
Unfinished stories
like fallen leaves
hurried to our graves
My eyes
opening them slowly
to my lover’s kiss –
No! It was just the roll
of distant thunder!
~
Her kiss
thunders in my head;
as it fades
it leaves my heart
drenched in warm rain.
As I sip my morning tea, the autumn sun outside, like a warm, tender wave falls over the trees in the garden. Beside me, on the desk, a book calls to be read, as though it were the tender eyes of a woman I love, inviting me to delve into them. My heart is filled with a strange stillness and calm as leaves falls all around.
Autumn morning…
in all beginnings is sown
the seed of their end
Rooted in Love 