My Nostalgia
My nostalgia is a lone sentence that may
carry a certain fear
It is not always the same, sometimes at will it may caress my long eyelashes and
become pensive.
Sublimely forgotten, my nostalgia is a
fettered sorrow
it is silent, it is weeping, it is a tightly tied parasitical nostalgia
It is not of wheat, it is a mixture of
earth strewn with dust.
It is untimely, I have noted it, and then bloodstained it is the painful
grievous
gesture of a religious suffering
It is the skin of night when a teardrop is welling
My nostalgia
Rezension I Buchbestellung I home III08 LYRIKwelt © N.R.©Traducido por Timothy Adès