*
His mother told him that everything is sacred, but the crown of this scale is the mother, the water and the music.
Of mothers, let nothing be said, for that is not possible; without water there would be nothing - nor mother;
the music is mattress, pillow and blanket.
against the Big Hollow
that so many pursue, and also lead us to walk, climb glass and melt the white and the black of the clouds.
***
LANGUEE, Germany. March 2020
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem