Laberinto de sueños - Labyrinth of Dreams - Poetry

in #blog6 years ago (edited)

«Un hombre camina leguas y leguas durante una vida y de ésas no aprovechó más que fatiga y heridas en los pies, cuando no en el alma, y viene un día en que da apenas seis pasos y encuentra lo que buscaba.»

José Saramago


Laberinto de sueños


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Hay días que vacían nuestros pasos
y da igual seguir como fantasmas
o dormir en una tumba fría.
Hay gente que tiene días
en que sólo reconocen la noche
por la idéntica armonía.
Mientras, otros lloran de alegría
y con ese llanto lavan
la amargura que rocían.
¿Quién pisa con sus pasos
la tumba donde estamos ambos?
¿Quién crea ese artilugio
en pleno plenilunio?
¿Quién abre sus venas
y mira telarañas en ellas?
Quien te abraza por las noches.
Quien avanza y retrocede
y de la nada aparece en un andén vacío
sin saber qué ruta toma, pero andando,
tan frágil como el hilo que une la luz a la sombra
tan misterioso como el halo de la luna oscura.
Como esa luna que aparece y desaparece
con su flotante vestidura
escondiendo nuestro encuentro
en un laberinto de sueños.

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«A man walks miles and miles during a lifetime and of those he took no more than fatigue and wounds on his feet, when not, in the soul, and comes a day when he gives just six steps and finds what he was looking for.»

José Saramago

Labyrinth of Dreams


lotus-1205631_960_720.jpg

There are days that empty our steps
And it does not matter to follow like ghosts
Or sleep in a cold grave.
There are people who have days
In that only recognize the night
By the identical harmony.
While others weep for joy
And with that cry they wash
The bitterness they spray.
Who treads with his footsteps
The grave where we are both?
Who creates that contraption
In full Plenilunio?
Who opens their veins
And look at cobwebs in them?
Who hugs you at night,
Who advances and regresses
And out of nowhere appears on an empty platform
Not knowing which route it takes, but walking,
As fragile as the thread that connects the light to the shade
As mysterious as the halo of the Dark Moon.
Like that moon that appears and disappears
With its floating robe
hiding our meeting
In a maze of dreams.

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By Zeleira Cordero @zeleiracordero.

23/05/2019


Photo by Devanath on Pixabay
Photo by Bella67 on Pixabay

Separator:
Cat
Simplemente Gracias

For your kind reading... Thanks!




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A very emotive write. The sentiment is similar to my most recent share, "Blind Them To My Pain."

Thank you, @momzillanc. I'm pleased to share that kind of similarity of poetic feelings.

A very intriguing write, Zeleira. Can I ask. Who is Plenilunio?

Greetings my dear friend! It fills me with satisfaction that you are interested in turns of Spanish. Plenilunio is told to the full moon in its maximum expression, when with its light it embraces all the nocturnal space, when it enchants the look and kidnaps our attention and capacity of astonishment.

Ahhh ... yes, not it makes sense. We call it a full moon in English but I like plenilunio more:)

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Hola @zeleiracordero,excelente mi querida amiga , despiertas mi admiración .
Bendiciones

¡Bendiciones, amiga! ¡Gracias!

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