i am at a secular house
wondering ~ out there~
closed….in doubt….
and i assume that i am a little insane
anyway…..
peeking on a strange tree
~ sometimes green ~
and sometimes solitude ~
when it is arched by my breath
a red bird sing his freedom
Inside the house, behind a dozen of vitreous eyes…..
a contemplative cat ~dreaming~
AH! The window….the open windows
hidden in the kitchen ~ a monster ~ noisily~ resides
with its fangs open waiting for something alive
i feel that at any move ~at any glance ~at any breath~
if i change my way of look things
becoming my vision into a glassy eyes
the cat will be a plush … forever
the bird…something mechanical
But the hid monster will remain
as he is….
So doesn' t matter
would not be nothing remarkable
i firmly assuming to watch them
~in that way~
i am in a chair ~ a chair with stories to tell~
~Mum outside stories~
the bird is hanging everywhere
the cat probably in a profound meditation
and The guardian waiting for my carelessness
And i hoping the return to my normal
as people and bird and monsters and cat must be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
:) thanks for sharing.