ΖΩΗ
Golden, incorruptible life,
you who grant miracles
even to the one who’s almost dying,
in your second-to-last breath
you make us children again.
As if to give us something to journey with—
for a voyage we know nothing about,
but always imagined
and feared.
But you, life,
however it may be,
this fragile thing for us,
yet so deeply meaning—
you clutch it in your palm
like a crumpled piece of paper.
And so we,
we learned
to dream.
Σχόλια
Δημοσίευση σχολίου