Inside the image that lay.
It was a straightforward photo, I saw,
The fair substance of a youthful fellow:
Then, at that point, I felt a feeling of wonderment:
Misery mixing with my satisfaction!
I was right here, at 23
The elegant picture, a young fellow
With delicate and wavy reddish hair
New youthful muscles, jaw and temple!
Clear and straightforward were things,
That my internal soul developed;
The white 셔츠룸 cloak of effortlessness:
Maybe some other time.
Presently, an elderly person at 64
With grabbing eyes, overcast brain
That limited room of youth dispossessed:
Iridescent magnificence presently evaporated!
As though enveloping in one evening:
Wild and dim and splendid dreams,
Aging inside that old photo:
We harvest as we have planted!
In this manner, the spirit presently endlessly pauses
For the day he’ll evaporate
However the image actually remains:
Some time ago, he was 23.
Haiku for Iceland
In 1999, the ninth of
September, at 9:00 a.m.! I was flying
to Iceland, that is:
9-9-1999 at 9:00 a.m.!
The Drinking Room
Here men are patched
It lives in a straightforward kitchen,
Level green walls, with a white sky
Furthermore, a light emission, for the sun
(put in the focal point of the roof)!
Here you can turn into a cured stone.
The stones of the brain, quiet…
The heart stone calm, moved by
Just to take care of the mouth-opening with
channeled in liquor.
Here individuals of the local beverage
Such in vim’s of dimness
Wipe kissing the phallic glass
jugs of brew.
One stone eye closes, leaving the
Other to observe equivalence:
A large number of days after day…
A current upsets the wires in your mind
Volts upon volts energizing the middle!
This is the drinking room,
That snares the hands and brains of
the dead, or passing on?
Love is in the thirst and revile, the tingle!
Furthermore, we as a whole get suspecting:
“I’ll quit drinking!
I’ll be all around great…
In any case, few at any point do,
They simply change rooms.
Note: it took me 22 years until I quit drinking; I recently continued to change rooms, presently I have thirty years of balance.
There are cinders on the moon, I bet:
left over from the people of old!
There are cinders on Earth, moving
in the breeze, I’ve seen this.
There are cinders on Mars, red like
-torpid fire…here and there
All over the place: I’ve seen photos!
There are cinders on Mercury, hot
also, burnt…there must be (?)
Sometime in the not so distant future, assuming you investigate my
casket, you’ll find remains as well!
Remains have a long history with
humankind, individuals, the universe.
The sun, one day will detonate,
be sucked into nothingness;
Or on the other hand maybe a dark opening
Leaving just remains and dead gases!
Then, at that point, what?
We’ll all begin once more, from Ashes?