OCTOBER EVENING

Red clouds-clad
October evening.

Fallen in love,
riding an old green bicycle,
me and my sorrow
are sailing
in the river of time.

October evening
With the breeze kissing my brow
Drunk with nostalgia
I feel like dying
Under the deep-grey sky

Powerful
breath
of the wind
freeze
my bitter
solitude!

UNDER THE WATERFALL

I feel the trembling pulsation
under the waterfall
a thriving oscillation
that follows the sorrow

My eyes are closed
under the waterfall
they are imprisoned
in an abyss of fine crystals
that embraces me.

Under the endlessly
stormed waterfall
of a hidden lake
I’m vanishing

Under the waterfall
that does not touch me
neither drowns me
nor kills me
Under the splendid
waterfall
of my tears.

THERE ARE DAYS

There are days when
the solitude surrounds itself with eccentricities,
like a red neon
that opens the path of the nostalgia.

There are days when
I dip my insomnia
in the nocturnal ocean
while the down is breaking.

There are days when
I would die
to be lost
in the bright torrent
of your eyes.