PLACE OF THE PAST

 

I feel as old as a coin that turned green

and is covered by the mould it has only

notches of doubt. I’ve been crushed.

The man and God are reconciled with each other

the heart shares the flower of the dolour

and defeats the death and the water

of the new limpid life flows; living waves

of eternity lead the heavy heart into heavy

vortices, melancholy, torments and fun

lost am I without any escape, without bitter

nostalgia even the gold stars that twinkled

for an instant were nothing but illusions

nonetheless the death engraved her cruel

name on every line, on every cog. The coin

me is like a drowned sun like a warm tear

in the Universe rolling flames make it collapse

dispersing all that was once united, place

of the inexhaustible past.