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the cinnamon peeler's wife

12.21.2004 at 2:18:00 AM

the creative process: suspended in the void I have a long conversation with my friend silence.

Nada

Soy un árbol sin sus ramas
soy un guerrero que ha fallado su misión
estoy encerrado sin salida
la tierra tiembla, desolada
sólo calles sin final ni destino
sólo el sonido de las máquinas
ni siquiera el canto de un pájaro.
Soy nada
no soy aire ni roca inmóvil
el peor de los ladrones ha robado mi sonrisa
el mar me traga
el cielo cae, me aplasta
soy una ilusión, un fantasma
conozco a lo vacío y el vacío me conoce a mí.

(Nothing

I feel like a tree, that has no branches
Like a warrior that has failed his mission.
Locked in a room with no door, no way out.
The earth like empty streets
No birds singing, only cars rushing by.
I don't even feel like the air
or a rock that never moves.
I feel like nothing
I feel like the sea will swallow me
The sky will fall upon my head
The worst of criminals has come by
And robbed my smiles
I am a ghost, an illusion.
I know nothing, and nothing knows me.)

from Soy by Ekiwah Adler Beléndez

(p.s. nagh, i am on winter break.)

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