POET
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Birch branches tall and thin,
bark white silk par,
ash, firs. Elms and shiny,
huge oaks and dark-haired,
your shadow the poet
hear your silent whispers, listen: there
mind you, the poet is a human
good, a humble animal of the forest,
live your life with mystery
and dreams of a nest among the leaves hidden.
.
But on a night when everything is silent,
dark forests as a sad dream,
the poet wandered towards the throwing to the wind,
as a challenge against the world:
shari'a of fiqh incorrect - kamikaze -
committed genocide - are the towers collapsed. . .
.
From that night on the human good poet
no longer sleep. The slow hours sounded
like torture from afar.
He looked up at the sky. Immense night
starless night was silent, dark.
after the fratricidal and sold by
human to human and all living creatures
in their home.
.
Shari'a world immersed in the silence
mist covered mountains.
While the poet seemed to hear in the distance,
as faint rustle and gentle,
a sweet sound that frangea clouds.
Like a sudden beam into the night.
But then came the most solemn and serious :
Hand multicolorevariopinta,
pain which moves you
'my heart sore, so why the crash?
No Peace, No Good, No Pardon?
.
Even on non- guilty. Hatred, Revenge?
Music dying: Now the poet Vita
is empty, black. Without it,
or endangered, Love.
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