Sunday, January 1, 2017




Sir, you said you were a sailor from Liverpool.
Isn't your raised sail for me below the moon?
Your eyes are as blue as the sky at noon.
Goodbye my home town!
My last hugs to you.
My sailor, raise your sail in my life's room.
Though autumn rains are cool
This autumn breeze will join us very soon.
Hello Liverpool!
You sent me a sailor from your magic pool.
Sir, you said a fish once talked to you.
I know, my sailor, it was true.
The fish with my message swam to you.
Let me say goodbye to my home town soon.
Let me say hello to Liverpool.


I didn't know I could be reborn.
I was a phantom.
I was a breathing ghost.
Which miracle changed me for a stork?
I will fly to your land through my life's fog.
You may ask me what I lost.
It was a roof taken by frost.
No, I don't want a mask any more.
The mask found me as I was a ghost.
My dear, this miracle lets me boast.
I can tell you I was reborn.


Earth! Do send your map to my head's mist!
Bind my paths to your remote streets!
I will walk, talk and get some strings to knit.
My knees may hurt so I will probably slip.
I will fall and rise to my feet.
I will talk and talk before my heavenly sleep.
Ah, Earth! Do bind my paths to your remote seas!
I might be unborn for my next trips.
I was just born on this time's lips.
I will beg a plane to give me its wings.
Ah, plane! Let me fly away from my head's mist!
Could a flying seat be the best street?
Earth! I was born to read your saga's scripts.
Neither born nor unborn learns what life is.


Do you know you healed my broken knees?
I am no longer lame as I used to be.
Even a street bulb whispers to me.
A night disappears seeing the sun's glimpse.
You are my day light in the world's rhythms.
Do you know you healed my eyes with your warm lips?
I am no longer blind with wrinkled eyelids.
My dreams got thin as I didn't find anything for them to feed.
A wind used to lose its way to my mill.
Did you heal even the wind?
You sailed from the land where Byron lived.
Do you know you brought me such magic remedies?
My dreams will never break their promise.
They are no longer hungry as they used to be.


I talked to the wind through the autumn leaves.
The leaves don't know where time creeps.
Time is never back but where it sits.
No winds know where time kneels.
Old and new, born and unborn don't know where time flees.
I talked to the streams through the autumn streets.
The streams flow but they don't know where time leads its wheels.
Known and unknown may be time's rhythms.
The autumn sun is lazy but not blind to see.
The sun may know time climbs up and down like invented myths.
I asked the autumn rains if they know what time sweeps.
Born and unborn, known and unknown may have the same wings.


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