Softer
.
Softer were the lips
than sand under my hands
on a summer day
Softer than clouds
when gazing at a pale sky
of grey
Softer than a wind’s caress
on hay
And keeps me wonder
from where that cruelty came
when you said goodbye
staring at the sun
finding at last
the glorious green ray
Έρως;
όχι, ο ψίθυρος ενός ποιητή νεκρού από καιρό αλλά δεν θα καταλάβω ποτέ γιατί τρύπωσε στα δικά μου αυτιά..