Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Ain't


In a city's bakeshop
a little filthy child came
stood at my side
touched me, raised an open hand.

I spoke to her in silence
an imploring gaze was her response
so I gave to her the bread I bought
yet she raised another hand.

Saying and Said



A master once asked:
What is said has its saying,
Which is beyond the limit of what is said.
Listen not merely to what is said
But also to the saying
A said if not uttered is nothing,
But a saying remains essential
Even without having said it,
Isn’t it?

No one answered.

Translation

fondling with your warmth
your hands slowly
exploring
caressing
immerse with
in our solitary making
with our eyes uttering
silence
no one
only our hearts can understand

To others
even to some
mostly to me
the raison de'etre
I remain a cold blooded
engraving our mode of being one.