Morning Light
Longing for a romantic moment,
and a lost voice.
Good morning,
Morning light.
What do the fish do?
Are the doves that used to perch on your window sill feeling well?
Once upon a time, I used to give them seeds
And I would ask them to watch over you
When I am not around.
It was as if I knew one day
You would lose your voice.
The mountains of Nevada have heard your voice, mountains on fire.
I am searching for your lost voice in red rock, in the desert.
Where a rainbow had settled in its sky,
You shouted :
“goodbye, rainbow.
Next year we will see you here again.”
I shouted: “No rainbow is permanent.
Let's stay here for the night and set up our tent.
Let's be in this naked nature.
Let's ride our horse here.”
Captive to a romantic moment
The mountains of Red Rock have heard your voice
“ I love you, Monika.”
Do you remember?
We passed by Red Rock
longing for a footprint on the sands,
a trace to stay behind
You left your voice hanging in the air
Like a wild horse writhed in pain
Ran off to an unknown plain.
“I love you, Monika.”
Do you remember
In Ghost City
One night, with the Ghost of gold seekers
the Ghosts that still sought gold, door to door
we sat
by the fire?
We listened to their ancient stories.
they showed us
Their torn bags and cried.
I shouted: “Look,
They have left a trace of gold
In the valleys and mountains.”
You said,
“A trace of foolishness.”
Do you remember?
Longing for a trace to remain
You sang the song of love."
In the ghost city
we saw the wounded knight,
who set out 300 years ago to save
a little girl in Shiraz and still
didn't know which way to go.
I said: “don't go this way; go that way.”
You smiled and replaced him by my side.
And you recited a poem from The Song of Solomon:
“Let us get up early to the vineyards…”
Good morning,
Morning light,
Is your heart still beating like before,
With all the needles that have pierced your chest?
I said not to let anyone nest in those nests.
Memories and thoughts take hold,
I said your heart would grow bigger,
It doesn't leave you any room to breathe,
I said not to open the gate of your heart,
So that refugees and immigrants can flock to it,
I said a flood would come and drown you,
Your heart grows bigger and drowns,
Drowning me and yourself,
Now tell me,
Morning light,
How are you feeling,
What is your heart doing?
Your lungs whistle and release the sound of birds that had made a home in it.
You have fallen onto a hospital bed and listen to the sounds of your heart's birds,
Birds with broken wings that fly gently into the air,
Good morning,
Morning light.