jueves, 10 de noviembre de 2011

the treachery of hope

one memory keeps haunting me:
the day when winter died.
so much white grief.
could it be other,i thought,
with high snows all around?

you came and stayed with me for a while.
i can still feel how weary you were.
we talked about the thaw of cold hours
and the treachery of hope:

"the meadows outside-the meadows",you said,
pointing to the mountain of snow,
"the meadows of white are enchanting young
women,fast bending their steps
towards the tenements of their dreams."

but i mocked you,and how sad i made you.
"such beautiful meadows they are...";
again you spoke,forgetting what i had said.

one of you-i don't remember who-was embroidering
a tablecloth of stunning damask;
we took it and laid it over the immaculate
immensity of white.
then we dined together.

Nicolae Sirius

2 comentarios:

  1. Siempre escoges piezas delicadas, como de mundos aislados, personajes y paisajes que parecen habitar en el interior de esas bolas de cristal con nieve al girarse. Visitarte, es encontrar un pequeño remanso de tranquilidad. Una pausa.
    Un abrazo.

  2. Otra manera de darte las gracias :tu eres el hombre que pinta infancias/en la ciudad con hombres de ceniza...