the gambler one day
while sitting on a chair facing the sea watching the sunset
looks at the poet
like him alone on a worship of the fading day
wondering what was it that keeps
digging inside his heart
the gambler starts a conversation telling the poet that he envies his
solitude
his grace with the use of the words
his beauty and his
journey along the paths of
the spiritual and
the divine communion with God
the poet is not amazed and takes a simple gaze
at the gambler's face
he give the gamble a little smile
telling him
nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem