WORLD POETS MAGAZINE

  silence   sometimes a lot of silence is needed for me to wake up between shadow and soul even in this century the lantern flickers and I 'm finally still the moon and the river accompany our walk everything is left to its own   even this century walks and again we return to the place where we are and are not for me it's enough that I 'm close it resembles the space of two souls   nearby is the sea which is not a wall and the night shows horizon beyond the sight the seagulls wave at us and I surrender into voice   the wild horizon and vastness incomprehensible and uninhabited light frightening love and the mountains maintain the height everything here is turned inwards   people leave their houses every day and they return this century and the silence within us   the sky continues   the best are the days when nothing happens I inhabit the silence let the sun rise out of the day I water the flowers the droplets should fall to drive the flower's ju...

  Cavern   The dream is sown with multiple stains, and you are anxiously crossing over, a storm rolling over an apron while you abandon our speech, my house, our panic. Yellowish under the old sun, the cobbler beats on the anvil of the broken guilt, I cry with him as if at a funeral, but the beating leads nowhere. I wipe away the stains on the floor of the dream, while the fright still remains about today, about here:   we have no home, our only home is a poem, but God looks upon and behold, it is good, he claims, even though the ancient Greek scribe with sculpted shoulders and beautiful gray beard instantly rolls his eyes.                          (Translated by the author)     Ceiling, Autumn   I have something to confess, and it's not accumulating below or under me but above It won't burst out from beneath our feet, but will be water, in pea...