12 mar 2014, 0:23

Like a black pearl 

  Poesía » Otra
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The thing that follows
- from where did it come?
Abysmal hollows?
A windowless small dome?

A question.
What will be your answer?
Affection?
Or you will die from cancer?

The river flows.
A torn branch passes by.
Hello?

Two little dolls
pretend to be adults
- a row?

And does the cockroach
sleep under the cloakroom
when the night is young?

And does the flame torch
overshadow full moons
when the stars are dull?

The clouds are gathering
to feast upon their storms.
A lightning's flattering
receives a gentle palm.

Red - dotted ladybugs
climb pumpkins in a line.
One fled the heavy fug
and turned into thick slime.

Are purple - haired mosquitos
sick of that nasty cold?
At all - not, just a little,
go cure them - shave them bald.

My strong arms can defeat you,
but you can't lose like me,
so who is now the cheater?
Ah, screw it, let it be.

The candlelight's a pyre
for nasty little flies.
Hell yes!

The talk is a desire.
The strings are full of lies.
Yes - guess!

Ah, my dear, pretty boy...
You don't know what love is.
Kill yourself better than I can.
Remember well this.

But... can the small, colored mosquitos
actually find peace?
I can not bear to watch them like this,
kill them instead, please...

© Людмил Стоянов Todos los derechos reservados

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