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still flies Icar after the melting of the wings
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Camica ]

2005-10-01  |   

Literary Translation - Translations of classic and original poetry and other materialsThis text is a follow-up  | 



with autumnally wandering leaves
in spring.
They fly with dry clouds,
With the sun bleeding on the fields,
The grass burns,
I feel, I search, I smile wickedly
Then and there.

When the sound catches the rainbow`s tail
For the vision of color,
Cells come off context
And displace the tear
Exactly in the colorless dew.

Freely captivated in a shadow’s cocoon
My wings shatter off
The darkness’s dust,
the all remains behind,
Shattered off my wings, beside the sound.
I have the light on my shoulders, on my arms
For morning.

Wings hurt me no more…
The sound nestles
Underneath them and I catch significance.

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