hours struck twilight
alkonyatra vert órák
don’t destroy yourself for the goals
I dip my dry feet into the sea
- the burden of anxieties to shed
my whole afternoon is a despair plea
because the bench is made of sand
rock is the shore I’m tormented by fear - my adolescent muscles are taut
on the horizon enclosing indifference is near
and my mind is forced to fall
there is no humility in bitter wind blaze
don’t struggle – don’t strain for any call
only a clean gesture touches the glaze
if you destroy yourself for the goal
I’ll discover when the moment is right
which is used by misery or prohibition
principles watch without eye sight
and hell is made of mosaic composition
I dip my sick pen in a secret
the giant sail breaks apart in ascension
a new world is hit by a footprint
and between the lines the form stands in attention
the hours are already striking twilight
with my ray-hand I wake up the sun bright
I scribble three or four more poems by night
and you can continue reading your favorite playwright
Libros Libertad 