viernes, 13 de noviembre de 2015

escrito en el viento

 Escrito en el viento
el nombre que amo
escrito en el agua.
Pero el viento no sabe escuchar,
y el agua no recuerda  nombres.

miércoles, 4 de noviembre de 2015


children's dreams take shape
In squares of paper
Folded and pressed,
Unfolded, folded,
And pressed again.

So much effort in the doing
And undoing

And so much faith

In the direction

And silence

That butterflies and swans,
Flapping birds and cranes

That will fly you from here
to their world

Live in children's hands
Who will tell you all about them
On the way home.

martes, 3 de noviembre de 2015


Like a punch in the face
planetary lights and stars,
do I see Spring.
The ground is frozen.
Dawn like the colors of an old fire
illuminates the south-east.
The ground is frozen solid,
yet not to permafrost,
yet not to this inner core
which glows like coals for you.
Overcast comes, overcast goes
the ground is frozen but not the core,
but not your eyes
which glow like coals
but not to permafrost.