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Poema

November 8, 2005

This is a poem that was printed and left behind by a patron.  I like it, so I present it here for you.  Um. It’s in Spanish.  So hopefully some of you can appreciate it anyway.

Poema
Moises Villavicencio Barras

I.
La tarde colores de vuelo entra en nuestra tumba.
Un lobo hijo de la niebla huye.
Escuchamos el corazon de la tierra.
Quien nos imagina en la osscuridad de esta casa bocabajo,
ombligo de hormigas,
uno junto al otro ya desiertos.

II.
la ciudad lejos
es un rumor de autos.
Abre los ojos a la noche,
rio para irnos troncos.
Bebamos de la lluvia que comienza.

I like that last line the best.

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From → Writers I Like

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