Where am I?

Where I am [ Artist ] Cy Twombly


Where am I?


Where am I?
What is this world in which I speak?
Mountain and river confine the aching sadness.
Must be washed, grain by grain, the sand from the river.
Must be snow-covered the crowns wreathed of the mountains.
Give back at downtowns the flowered green of pasture
at ocean the whiteness glittering of its shores.
To love the river carrying along its silt
until the obscure depths of its estuary.
Where am I?
What is this world in which I speak?
Gardens, deserts, beauties on earth soothe the distress.

Who am I?
What is this cold world where I shout?
The staggering spring is deeper for the pure hearts.
Still today, the soft childhood country seems so close
from the blue sky, from angels and their Paradise.
Just as the swallow empress driven by the wind,
dreams are depleted to the call of nothingness.
Behind the screen is disturbed the look of dazed man
by the hours after losing all its main assets.
Who am I?
What is this sad world where I shout?
Beauty of the places makes departures so hard.


2016 © ManachePoetry

Bulle  - Thank you reading

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