This is the last poem for this week. Thanks for reading, I’m pumped! Keep following or start now if you haven’t clicked on the 'follow' button. Have a great weekend. This is from my Dad’s book Twilight Theory (Teoría del crepúsculo).
Joyous requiem (Réquiem jubiloso)
As the trees that swell up
with the juice of the trunk and the prodigy
of their strength transforms them in shade.
with the juice of the trunk and the prodigy
of their strength transforms them in shade.
As the old oak, lost in thought
in the half-light of his autumn blooms,
once he has lost count of his years.
in the half-light of his autumn blooms,
once he has lost count of his years.
As the light that little by little
loses the miracle of piercing
inner spaces.
loses the miracle of piercing
inner spaces.
As the tiger that punishes the fever
of the turbulent aggression of time
and one given morning knows that he has lost
the roar and the strength and has no change
of recovering them.
of the turbulent aggression of time
and one given morning knows that he has lost
the roar and the strength and has no change
of recovering them.
My friend, dead as the trees
that give shade, as the tiger that dreams
with the vigour of his youth,
as the half-light that relieves the heat
of the eternal summer that was the patio
where he baked his life in the sun, where he scattered seeds
and where he has placed his bones underground.
that give shade, as the tiger that dreams
with the vigour of his youth,
as the half-light that relieves the heat
of the eternal summer that was the patio
where he baked his life in the sun, where he scattered seeds
and where he has placed his bones underground.
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