22 abr. 2005

Here's a translation that I'm trying to get to the "A" level. It just doesn't seem to groove yet:

The woman of the seeds
fighting death,
the subversive dream
of the universe.

With feet overtaken
by oceans
she surrendered to await
a passion
in self-defense.

This one is a little better. A- :

Living in the colors
of childhood
so as to stay still.

That is how the imprudent ones
remember their future.

The wheel of destiny,
more than a game,
was a precipitous wish
to come back.

your heart that never forgets
the clarity
of ice.

This one, on the other hand, is an "A":

We are like insects
in words of amber.

Ancient weavers
of voices
tired from posing
in live flesh.

Two extremes
of the same fleeting star
and hiding.

In the closeness
of our lips
the moon ferments.

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