Monday, August 17, 2015

Unspoken Valentine

Doesn’t every language
hone its own bite and pitch
and strange discoloration
each one like a poor translation
of uncertain derivation
of that original tongue
shaped as it was by terrible
landscapes earthquakes volcanos
speech that began with trembling
and returns to trembling
and here and there a kiss
the only word left from the other side
that remains immutable and fine
and in every language the same

1 comment:

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