I know the sea is grieving
I know that the sea is grieving
in the middle of a waterlogged winter,
I feel sea fever at the end of December,
and fires that fade without making noise.
I'm afraid, it is getting cold!
I shiver from the wind that blows,
and like the sea
I don't feel quite well,
even in the midst of June,
when the entire world refreshes itself in the water willingly,
not violently,
when the waves fade in the branches of the foreign blood
and the fires burn in the eyes of a cyclops.
I know that the sea is grieving.
The magnet of the soul
A wave of your soul
was burned with thirst,
and that fire
made the sky blue.
I have turned into a stone
that waits the other wave,
to clean off the passion
or the passion to clean me off,
In the mirror of time
you embroider the blue,
from my stone,
violet water drop
and the blue blood
that you mention so many times,
I feel
how it dripps amongst seas.
That blueness
set under the skin,
the heart drowns in the lake.
In seven sources
that come from the same rock
my soul mentions you.
And your sky
remained just like a cloud,
a magic of your eyes
a mirror.
My magnet soul
that attracts you,
your magnet soul
that only pushes me.
