ยกBuenos dรญas! Saludos a todos los amantes de la literatura. Les comparto este poema inรฉdito esperando, de corazรณn, que les agrade.
Hello! Greetings to all lovers of literature. I share this unpublished poem hoping, from the bottom of my heart, that you like it.
๐๐จ๐ฆ๐๐๐ก๐๐ข ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ฃ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐๐
Despertรฉ,
despertรฉ y en la penumbra
de mi lecho taciturno
ya no sentรญa su aliento
ni el calor de su presencia
ni el cafรฉ de las maรฑanas
ni sus suspiros nocturnos.
Corrรญ,
corrรญ pero no lo alcancรฉ,
quise llegar a sus brazos
ya sedienta del cansancio
en el caminรณ pensaba
quรฉ serรญa de mi vida
si lo llegaba a perder.
Nadรฉ,
nadรฉ y el mar con su calma
me sumergiรณ en sus confines,
lo busquรฉ en lo mรกs profundo
y al emerger de sus entraรฑas
el undรญvago desvaneciรณ
lo mรกs febril de mi mundo.
Volรฉ,
volรฉ en pleno firmamento
tan ligera como un ave
cual รกngel yo me elevรฉ
pero mis alas quebradas
me lanzaron al vaciรณ
donde jamรกs lo encontrรฉ.
Caminรฉ,
caminรฉ en sitios extraรฑos
senderos desconocidos
ningรบn suelo ante mis pasos
me devolviรณ su mirada
y regresรฉ, con el cuerpo hecho pedazos
y el corazรณn malherido.
Desmayรฉ,
desmayรฉ por el dolor
de ver mi tiempo perdido
en busca de esa alma errante
que se perdiรณ en el ocaso
y me dejรณ el mal sabor
de no haberse despedido.
Morรญ,
morรญ y en la finitud
lo busquรฉ en cada rincรณn
y en un lecho lo encontrรฉ
quizรกs sรณlo adormecido
y allรญ se quedรณ mi alma
para tenerlo conmigo.
Autora: Ana C. Rivero Foucault (Venezuela)
๐๐ข๐ข๐๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ข๐ฅ ๐ ๐ฌ ๐๐ข๐ฆ๐ง ๐ฆ๐ข๐จ๐
Woke up,
I woke up and in the dark
from my taciturn bed
I no longer felt his breath
nor the warmth of his presence
nor the morning coffee
nor the night sighs of him.
I ran,
I ran but I didn't reach it
I wanted to reach his arms
already thirsty from fatigue
on the way I thought
what would become of my life
if he lost it.
Swim,
I swam and the sea with its calm
submerged me in its confines,
I searched deep inside
and when emerging from its entrails
the undรญvago vanished
the most feverish of my world.
I flew,
I flew into the sky
as light as a bird
which angel I rose
but my broken wings
they threw me into the void
where I never found it.
I walked,
I walked in strange places
unknown trails
no ground before my steps
he looked back at me
and I came back, with the body in pieces
and the broken heart.
I passed out,
I passed out from the pain
to see my wasted time
in search of that wandering soul
that was lost in the twilight
and left a bad taste
not having said goodbye.
I died,
I died and in finitude
I looked for it in every corner
and in a bed I found him
maybe just numb
and there my soul remained
to have it with me.
Author: Ana C. Rivero Foucault (Venezuela)
๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐
๐ ๐ป๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฬ๐๐ ๐
๐ ๐ณ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ฬ๐๐๐๐๐:
https://www.messletters.com/es/