Friday, October 3, 2008

Someone…, Sometime…

Maybe not from this place,
Of no defined race,
May surely show up.
And speak with my mouth,
and then
Compose a song of faith,
That shimmers like dreams
In the limpid blue eyes
of a smiling child…

Who speaks with my mouth
Of cracked pomegranates,
as the green rain
Cries with my eyes and
rejoices at sunrise…

Come what may --
Even under the heel of gray steel--
Someone with my hands
Will offer Bread -- Blue Bread
And Green Wine…

will emit a song of rain
from my own chest.

Someone, sometime…

Translated By: Tatul Sonentz

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