terça-feira, 29 de novembro de 2016


Shlomi Nissim

I light my green leaves
and warm my self .
I exhale
and slip
with the ecstasy of one falling into the enemy ’s embrace
with the delight of one accepts his tortureer ’s judgment
or with the ravenousness of one who shares the murder his guilt

I flee
from innocent weakness to absolute frailty
from sex to a pleasure that sex cannot kill off
from my own wisdom
to the ice of escape.
I find shelter in the land of a brazen angel,
in brimstone growing within its own secrets ,
from my intelligent misery
to a storm of cruelty purified of hope
like the like return of the prodigal daughter to her last escapade
to the wedding that follows the sun
where I will neither live nor vanish .

And my spirit calls me toward a reasonable, foolish kind of madness
that has ebbed and flowed through my life
So I began to sway from rebellion to infatuation
and from ecstasy to dispersion
completely unaware

Here I am returning
Here I am returning to love
like the return of the she-lion to her husband the lion
So who will steal the forest from me now


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