I would walk entire nights not knowing where to go.
It is normal when you find yourself in an unknown place.
You just feel the need to roam in an ecstatic state
losing any conception of time and place.
After passing through yet another labyrinth of archways,
rusty, yet full of a life that no longer exists,
I found myself in a back alley.
In that very instant there was a break.
A melody, a song of celebration came
from a small two-story house.
Unknown chant, undecipherable language,
words that, secluded, bewitch without revealing themselves.
I waited out there, listening,
envisioning those rooms, foreseeing those visages,
those expressions. The moon was high and full
As their faces and their glasses.
The wind was blowing, I did not understand.
I listened and a stream flowed through me.
I do not think it is necessary to communicate directly
To give a sense of the unknown,
Is this enough to let others live?
Autumn leaves fall on my body.
But it was already February.
Pinkish petals fall from my eyes.
Yet, in the impassive face of the sky, humans
only read their joy or their despair.
The cyclical nature of time binds me to live unending deja vus,
I build and destroy, destroy and create,
a constructive thing when I destroy.
How can someone who lives in such a place be unhappy for even a moment?
Perhaps someone who has allowed himself to be swept away in those waters now feels a bitter repentance,
may the shadows tell me if so it will be once again.Look at the fields that are burning and already
you will see farther on, the black cloud, which brings along
the other face that no one wants to see.
A perverse search for harmony and an unattainable peace.
The black soil of the freshly burned field still gives off
the aroma of rotten crops.
One cycle closes and yet another opens.