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Lucia Daramus

In An Autumn Day

I'm afraid! My hands fall
like today. Autumn. Like grain of the rain
late in the night...'' It's right that tears fall ''
I'm afraid! My eyes , my eyes
are detached from my retina
as the grass which exfoliates itself from the earth
shy grass, fragile grass in our autumn, our a-u-t-u-m-n
I'm afraid, I'm afraid of people ...especially autumn
I said that again and again, and again
yes, I said
as a pebble, yes a pebble
he has fear , fear of exfoliating
of earth
however, however it will die
under the water, and sand , and wind
and time....time...time...time...
so heavy is the time, so heavy, h-e-a-v-y
maybe in an autumn day
when the stars will have wrinkles on their face
grow older and die, die, d-i-e
when lovers never kiss again
under the moon undefined by autumn.
I can not accept the end, the autumn -
will not be autumn in my writing
the death will not steal my word
you, leaves, you will talk in eternity
about my leaf – poem, my poem, your poem
because in the end we will be one
death, poem, word, eternity, eternity -----
in an autumn day.
And you have to know
''it is right that tears fall''

 

 

The Death Is Coming

                  to Rick Vick

It is coming the death, it is coming
and will have your walking
it is coming the death is is coming
and will have your lips
I want to stop this season
I want to stop ---------
in my spring glass
to keep the sun of childhood
in my fresh little fists.
To drop in my cup of milk
the morning dew.
It is coming the death, it is coming
and will have your eyes
it is coming the death , it is coming
and will have your smile.
Yes, your walking, your lips, your eyes
will shine on the sky
when the sun will sleep on the mauve grass
and the moon will laugh to the memory of you
in the morning dew from my little fists.....

 

 

Memory

I screamed in the night, I screamed
with childish voice...being a child
I screamed , screamed , screamed ---
pluck me from his clench !
...and crucify his sin, sin, sin, sin....
fresh lily, white and immaculate lily!
I am tied to my bed....naked
the bed is cold, the bed is of rusty iron
and I smell , I smell the iron
I see white flakes of aged angels
over my hospital room. I see, see, see
near me another child, he is an angel too
his sex is in flame
he was beaten, beaten, beaten.....
I feel his beaten flesh
the angel is injured, his soul, his, his soul
fell down in Communism oblivion's hole
the hospital is a prison
with chimeras, with shadows, and fears.
The terror howls in my heart, the terror hugs me
it hugs, hugs, hugs...
the terror kisses my lips, it bites from my soul
it smells of iron...iron, iron, rusty iron
the terror petrifies my blood, my wings, my eyes!
It's desert and it's snowing, snowing...with white and cold
over our naked angel bodies --------
and he, the doctor, with long hands; claws of eagles!
The end. our end ! Our tears fall above our rusty iron bed
which is creaking of death. I'm hearing, I'...m he-a-ri-ng
the long and sharp screaming of our shadows,
naked shadows, freeze the ocean of tears!
Far...far...
in my green heart and red fears a blue star
with a tree of life inside is shining

 

 
Copyright © Lucia Daramus, 2019