The Play of Mourning – 29

The Maps Are Enkindling
In Reprieves Of Desire.
The Cage Of Body Is Getting Ossified.

Invisibly Is Circling
Water Dropp Of Creation
Through Lairs Made Of Sand.
It Is Giving Leafs To The Dreams.

By Seer’s Finger
It Is Reaching My Life Line On My Palm
And It Is Moistening It By Tears And Wakefulness.

Everything Experienced,
Wrapped Into The Cloth Of Wind,
Is Dreaming Its Heavenly-Minded Novel.

Translated From Croatian

More Shayari by Tomislav Raum
27 Jun 2008 No Comment 1

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