By Poetry comes and takes possession of your mind, your words, your vision… sometimes of your whole life. She takes everything because she gives everything. She has her rights.
This new book, still in the process of pre-printing, called Memories, went through many changes. Who knows, it might be a natural, like the natural change of the seasons. 😉 Ten days ago three people reminded me of this book, all three in the very same day, August 15th. ‘Hmmm…’ I said to myself amazed by the whole thing. This date was full of meanings for me. I know it’s hard to believe, but at that time I had no memory about Memories. 🙂 It remained somewhere in a foggy past while the present was filled with so many other things that redecorating house can bring. This process attracted a completely different poetry into my life.
I think this poem might sound almost the same translated into English. It’s the first in Memories, a short opening poem:
Each and every time
You could not see that I had wings.
I couldn’t see I had no soles.
We strived to find ourselves a common ground.
You had no wings.
I had no road.
(written in 2016)
Worlds of Words 