Jumat, 21 Desember 2012

Quiet girl.

I would liken you,
To a night without stars,
Were it not for your eyes,
I would liken you,
To sleep without dreams,
Were it not for your songs.
(Langston Huges 1902-1967)

Rabu, 19 Desember 2012

A Map Of Love.

Your face,
More than other's faces,
Map of the half-remembered places
I have come to
While I slept,
Continents a dream has kept
Secrets of all walking folk
Untill your face,
I awoke,
And remembered then the shore
And the dark interior.
(Donald Justice, A map of love)

Of memories in my head.

I hear the familiar sound
Of memories in my head,
Dancing wildly all around,
Outside the plants are dead,
And cold wind blows,
Branches without leaves,
Scratch at the windows,
I wonder,
If the tree too, grieves,...
(Winter blues, Charlotte S Harger, 1966)

Jumat, 14 Desember 2012


All afternoon the sea was a muddle of birds
Black and spiky,
Long necked, slippery,
Down they went
Into the waters for the poor,
Blunt headed silver,
They live on for a little while.
How did it ever come to you
to invent time?
I dreamed at night of the birds,
Of the beautiful dark seas,
They push trough.
(Mary Oliver)

Rabu, 12 Desember 2012

Flower's shadow.

To wait for the moon
I am sitting in the western parlour,
To greet the wind
I have left the door ajar,
When a flower's shadow stirred
and brushed the wall,
For a moment I thought
It is the shadow of a lover coming.
(Yuan Chen, AD 799-831)

Selasa, 11 Desember 2012

A walk.

My eyes already touch the sunny hills,
Going far ahead from the roads where I have begun,
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasped,
It has inner light, even from a distance,
And charges us, even if we do not reach it
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
We already are, a gesture waves us on
Answering our own wave,
But what we feel is the wind in our faces.
(Rainer Maria Rielke)

Kamis, 06 Desember 2012

The day is gone.

When the blue shadows
Pull themselves across the hills
And white sinks to the twilight
The blue snow of twilight
There's an illution of beginning
Here, where the field intersects the sky
Beyond the fence
Where the crystals slowly scurry
from the hills
It is a foreign house
There's nothing to unpack
It is not yet night
And the day with it's silence
Refused to talk
The day is gone
It is a blessing
Let it be a blessing.
(from, feminine winter cold, Sarah Mclay)

Selasa, 04 Desember 2012


(drawing, after Bansky's mural, Buenos Aires)
Listen to me as one listens to the rain,
Not attentive, not distracted,
Light footsteps, thin drizzles,
Water that is air, air that is time,
The day is still leaving,
The night has yet to arrive,
Figurations of mist,
At the turn of the corner,
Figuration of time,
At the bend of this pause.
Air and water, words with no weight,
What we are and are,
The days and years this moment,
Weightless time and heavy sorrow,
The years go by, the moments return.
In another time that is now,
Listen to the footsteps of time,
A restless garden adrift- go in
Your shadow covers this page.
(From; as one listens to the rain, Octavio Paz)