not the
flutter of another
cottony chopper
not the choice
between a butter and
a dragon
or a fly...it is when you
want to rest
lay your body in a rattan hammock
facing the sea
of endless blue
and when you arrive between
that boundary of sleep and
waking
that moment when you
decide to take the leap to
sleep
and then finally get the
drift......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem