Boast of Quietness by Jorge Luis Borges
March 26th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than meteors.
The tall unknowable city takes over the countryside.
Sure of my life and death, I observe the ambitious and would like to
understand them.
Their day is greedy as a lariat in the air.
Their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack.
They speak of humanity.
My humanity is in feeling we are all voices of that same poverty.
They speak of homeland.
My homeland is the rhythm of a guitar, a few portraits, an old sword,
the willow grove’s visible prayer as evening falls.
Time is living me.
More silent than my shadow, I pass through the loftily covetous multitude.
They are indispensable, singular, worthy of tomorrow.
My name is someone and anyone.
I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn’t expect to arrive
My Dream..
March 26th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Look out from the window
that’s my dream which is flying
that’s my dream leaving me
leaving me all alone
leaving me in this box
Open up the window
for I need to catch my dream
I need my dream to carry on
to look forward to another day
Let me go
I need to stop my dream from running away
I need to tell me dream that I still care
I still need it to be where I want to go
Look at the clouds
They took my dream in their arms
They are taking it to a new place
to a new city and new people
That was my dream which left me
But now it belongs to another little girl
She is cherishing it like I did
I hope this time it won’t run away
and stay with her forever…
