English translations

The Storms of silence

Every day I catch
my silence on a leash
and I walk audacious
through town with it.
Every day it tucks its tail
under my feet
and the chain grievously
rattles down the pavement.
Famished, barefoot
insolent unfortunates -
the words are slumbering
under the tip of my tongue.
But I keep silent-
and in the silence
frightful storms
and world wars
break out.


Nobody bears indelible scars
on their left side from me.
The memory of me, even vaguely,
pays nightly visits to no one.
Perhaps I should have
written braver,
hurt deeper,
left suddenly,
and behind me-
only slammed doors and ashes.
There is no one left waiting
for me in their thoughts.
Even though unspoken,
even though in secret
for me to be the bright light
like a lighthouse into the distance
which calls out sailors to the shore
and then my poems -
like songs of a Siren
condemn them to doom.

Past Tense

Take me back to the old house
fallen into decay
with the rusty fence
that we used to leap over fearlessly
to seak out those shabby ghosts-
our stories of unfortunate love
between these walls on which
we used to carve our names
with the car keys
but we wouldn't find anything
except,maybe, ourselves
and we drank with resignation
there, in the middle of the ruins
of someone's dusty porch.

 At the station 

Separated by ocean,
Brought together by phone-
This city is incapable
to fit both of us in.
On telephone wires
we're ruthlessly stringing
stolen words
in different languages,
recklessly pulling
the cords of a guitar
while separation
mildly lies between us..

Separated by ocean,
Brought together by phone.
Every stranger at the station
discovers themself.


Insecure lovers
make you want to
fix their lonely
wrecks of a heart
broken too many times
and sew them
on their sleeves again,
to become the savior,
the one who's willing
to stand up to their
demons and fears,
to all of their accusers,
who rarely happen
to be anyone other than
but as you so foolishly
fight on their behalf
you should know,stupid,
they tend to love
their misery
and never had
no intention
to part with it...

that is why
I don't fix,
I don't sew
I don't fight
and I'd help
someone to part
with only me
but nobody seem to
ever need help for that...

The Endless Departure of Ships 

It's almost sung, this blackbird's song, 
but the occasion is demanding
to write once more before too long, 
to swallow every word like candy.
My letters are what letters were
back when the heavy palms were waving.
When ships were parting with the shore,
my precious words betrayed me.
The miles are my new nemesis,
your absence is my anguish.
A ticking clock is all there is
my torment to be vanquished.

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