POETRY

LANGUAGES Many languages are spoken, now, in this world. Soaring words, meet, meet, collide, they create sparks, sometimes hate, sometimes love. Higher the rise of rationality, but without sinking voice, with thoughts fragile and lightweight, bamboo tablets, a woven basket, filled with blind poisonous mushrooms. Those quadrupeds painted on the rock, they trample the flowers they galloped over, but a …

THE WORMS At sunset, on the river bank, Krishna loved him for the last time and went. That night, in the arms of her husband, Radha felt so dead that he asked: “What’s wrong? Do you mind if I kiss you, love? And she said: “No, not at all,” but he thought, “What does it matter to the body of …

IF I THINK If I thought I could go away to come to you, ten thousand miles would be a mile. But we’re in the same city and I dare not see you, and a mile It is longer than a million miles. (Marichico) http://www.amazon.co.uk/Love-Poems-Marichiko-Kenneth-Rexroth/dp/0879221003      

OUR HANDS IN THE WATER We fidget this water. In it, our hands are sought, sometimes touching, broken shapes. Further down, is a current, is something invisible, other trees, other lights, other dreams. And look, are also other colors. Refraction transfigures the red. It was a summer day? No, it is the time that will change the sky, and into …

ROTATIONS The rotation of a star, I understand with the heart. There are red hot stones on the night of the body. These are the names that trace their orbit of oblivion, their ellipse years and forgetfulness. (Lorenzo Mari)

LULLABY My sweet little man, wild cherry and mountain ash, if you knew to stay on his feet would light your steps, on granite and sand, but you still do not know to stay upright, and my arm will have to tighten. On not cry, do not whine, Gretna Green. My beautiful little boy, salmon, cod silver, if you knew …

WATER AND LAND: LANDSCAPES It is time imperceptible that it is night. And no one asks how does the night, that matter secret is building the night. Sea, return at night the darkness that draws in your abyss. It rains and the world is concentrated in the rain. The water is absorbed. The whole Earth is sinking in the rain. …

ALTHOUGH SO FRAGILE Although so fragile and so short love, blood has too young this girl, to burn poems spring. (Akiko Yosano)

I HAVE NO WALKED IN YOUR DREAMS I have not walked in your dreams, nor do I have shown in the crowd, not appeared in the court where it rained or rather began to rain (this to the gate and I will replace it), it was tempting to believe, like a fool, I’d met soon, it was you that you …

ADDRESS OF DARKENED They are darkened. All attempts to soothe me have failed. Why do not you laugh, I asked people. What, I say, I will not negotiate with hope. Because I suffer from insomnia at night I go for a walk. Listening to the animals breathe; shadows they whisper. Once I discovered, but what I do not want to talk …