Memory
Father came home late He didn’t say good evening
Mother was concerned with her children She didn’t pay
attention to him
The children enjoyed her care They didn’t pay attention that he
didn’t
say good evening He
had his hands clasped behind him
had talked to the rain in the harvested fields
behind the woodsman’s cabin He had a double barrel shotgun
across his shoulder
He stood near the window alone
and when a strong lightning strike lit the glass
I saw the cross of the window incised in his forehead
Perhaps we learned of that separation tonight
perhaps the same cross is incised since then
in the lit wall of our silence

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Sadness of the Dusk
The roses of the dusk bloomed again tonight
golden, rosy, and purple
they faded tonight shedding their leaves
as I viewed them every evening
and every time I drink their fragrant dew
from their bloomed dawn I get intoxicated
in their soft and last breath
I consume each joy to its best.
Yet upon gazing the dusk tonight, I thought
of our love, that someday it will end
and when the roses of the dusk bloomed
golden, rosy, and purple
as they faded tonight shedding their leaves
this evening I got saddened.

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The 25th Year of his Life
He goes to the tavern quite often
where they met last month.
He asked, but they had nothing to tell him.
From their words, he understood that he had met
with a completely unknown person,
one of the many unknowns and questionable
youthful faces that passed through there.
However, he goes to the tavern quite often, at night,
and he sits and stares at the entrance,
he stares at the entrance until he gets tired.
Perhaps he may walk in. Perhaps he may come tonight.
For nearly three weeks, he has done this.
His mind has become sick with lust.
The kisses have stayed on his mouth.
All his flesh suffers constantly from the desire.
The touch of that body is all over him.
He wants to make love to him again.
It is understood that he tries not to reveal himself.
But sometimes he just doesn’t care.
After all, he knows what he’ll get himself into,
and he is okay with it. It is not unlikely that this life
of his will get him into a disastrous scandal.

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Rho

…honour due to the ancient beauty and
I asked the primeval wisdom
about the absurd way of modern life
and I was told by the eternal soul
of the immortals that consumerism
had taken modern life in its grip
and I noticed the empty glances of
the young women and men that
only knew of lust and sexual pleasure
then I realized the destiny of the anchorite
was meant for me, and I asked
whether in a future time, the ancient
beauty could be restored, and the virgin
of the Parthenon shed tears
seeing the tourists flocking like harpies
and inauspicious signs of modern life that
I searched without finding any resolution
nor catharsis among the yellow-haired tourists.
Without fear, I asked the ancient beauty
but I received no answer to please my soul.

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