Monday, January 1, 2018




The old woman with her long broom has disappeared.
She was sweeping the bronze leaves in the street.
It was November when I heard her steps with the rain drips.
It is winter now and she isn't seen.
Christmas miracles smile at a princess and a prince.
My cyber window is open for you but I miss.
Our cyber vehicles seem to be quick.
Your messages flow as if they were streams.
The old woman's drips of dew are still on my cheeks.
She wouldn't expect any miracles even in her dreams.
It is winter now and nobody knows where she is.
It was her job to clean the floors of the streets.
Could I be in her place with her long broom in the autumn mist?
Now my cyber window seems to be starlit.
I meet you through it but I miss.


Set out from your harbour in the morning.
The dawn sun bounces like a toddler and plays with its own rays.
Both your sails and naval uniform are wrapped in the light of days.
The mild breeze is your compass and the sea gulls are your crew on your way.
Set out from your harbour to look for uncovered lands.
Find one and your boat will take me there.
That virgin land might be waiting for us with its nude and open hands.
We won't face immigration rules forging iron chains.
The blue planet may have a corner to build our roof on its chest.
Set out from your harbour even if the morning has a bath in the rain.
You will not feel cold anyway.
Your naval uniform is wrapped in the hopes warming like rags.
The crazy waves are not so heartless to break our destiny's neck.
I will light thousands of candles to pray.
The light flowing from their lips will reach you everywhere.
Do set out from your harbour to discover unknown lands.
The oceans will welcome us with their crazy waves.
Their crazy waves are not as heartless as the immigration rules making us wait.
Our ages melt like soft snowflakes and they won't come back.
We wait and wait to be together and meet in each mail.


You compose tunes and words.
You know you are my word and song.
The way to you is long.
Let me rise like a chimney's smoke.
Your land is too far to walk.
My roads to you are still blocked.
I remember the great thinker's words.
"Something in the world is wrong".
I dare to blame the world.
It makes me envy flocks.
The sky seems to me to be closed.
You are my open sky with your blue eyes' gloss.
You compose songs for the world.
You know you are my song.


No comments :

Post a Comment