poem two

By Enzo Torre

Between the morning`s talking lips,
the horizon is a mobile line
In one point of the line, in silence I exist
Random impulses fight at every moment
to establish the course of a thought,
of drops falling on the sea
spreading concentrically without opinion

Perhaps a drop of the sea
can change the course of a man’s thought
But the collective thought of men
can never change the course of a single drop of the sea
This is the limit to my participation
My pain for the exclusion from the choral harmony

I have no connection with water
My seeds can never fertilize the uterus of the earth
Even if at this moment something light and indivisible
(to spread faithfully) is insinuating conspiratorial beats
among poets, criminals and mixed categories,
Air and Light will always show us our essential human defects
The embrace of the purest water with the fertile land
At the beginning it will always turn into mud.

But if there is only one man that lowers his voice
between the morning`s talking lips
and following the evolution of the wind,
for a moment it succeeds in entering the flow
and become again Air, Light, Sea Drop,
a radiant firefly will grow at the turn of the sky,
Follow her with a smile
This is the force that sustains the world
In the days that no man has smiled
The sun did not appear in the sky
that we raise daily.