Dove of peace In the bosom of poetry On a land that, instead of soil, It smells like gunpowder. After the rain of wishes I seek the shelter of your hands. Oh, boundless dove! Our tired earth He can’t stand the boots anymore. *** War The sun is shining. That our work and burden It’s […]...

Ah, the deceit of winter—Joy in lifeHas dwindled downTo mere survival. And yet,Poetry still exists.The moon still exists.In the palm of the oceanPearls are stillWaiting to be found. Though sleep has spread,WakefulnessRemains beautiful. They shatter the torches.They erase the starsWith black pens… To see tomorrow, We must awaken—Before we areAwoken. A man became our mother,With […]...

Come, let’s dance, Let’s dance so much That the city awakens And seeks the sun. Our weapon is our dance, And the night knows This beautiful virus Multiplies Exponentially! ■ From every laugh, A flower fountains towards the light, Lips are explosions, And the endless echo of every laugh Weakens the covenant of the mourners. […]...