I dreamed the beginnings of a castle
the sound of old fortifications
a structure neither suspended or living
and with such great tales of yesterday
inscribed in a fulcrum passed the years.
The house , the old mansion diverted
exchanging forms of simplicity and grandeur
and in its walls of stone curtly written
the name of ten thousand maidens
whose different fathers still quarreled
while just the one mother sang to them.
They made themselves the cause of memory in my laughter
and witnesses of a trial eternal
where time and synchronicity
as rivals made their plaudits
and became friends
sad inmates of their love mutual.
No comments:
Post a Comment