The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
You are an old chapel
With empty benches,
A monstrous calm,
And stretched windows;
Windows with somber images
Made bright
By the sun that shines through…
The sun
That tries to highlight everything,
Even if it means to highlight sorrow.
You are an old chapel
Growing prettier
As the candles stay unlit,
As the marble pillars lose all its glow;
(Once laughing
Like an infant’s glowing eye),
As a window with the image of Peter
Gets shattered by a cricket ball…
This is a beautiful place
Even if it changes.
This is where the monstrous silence lives
Through the changes…
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