Cun remexido de ideas, deume un día por probar a escribir un poemiña en inglés.
Este é o resultado, se cadra con erros,
se cadra non moi bon, pero foi un exercicio interesante :)
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I happened the winds on a whistle
and got my caution back from it
wrestling restlessness relentlessly
I sold it my truths for a penny,
plus a cash discount on marrow
the same me within that collapses,
ribs first, head second,
over the rotting apple-free insides of my old youth.
Further down,
lower flesh,
empty stomach.
Let’s eat some roses and garlic with passion
And you shall have me bloom and burgeon and burst with
this new you
this new me
this old us of creation.
You’d better caress my emptiness full
as things
only happen to come to pass when they occur
(not before, nor after).
As it just so transpires (as your body,
as my body when it runs still)
that things happen when you alone happen them
(like I happened the winds with my whistle)
neither me,
nor him.
Meanwhile,
thick grey matter’s threads throb and thrive
and I sell my words for a penny,
plus a cash discount
Great!!
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