Poetry

Each day gives birth to a poem
emerging from the whitness of morning
like Venus from the sea foam
 
its words embrace the world
with colorful threads of meanings
and encircle it with the garlands of metaphors
 
every day gives birth to a poem
sober by the sun rays,
intoxicated with dew and rain
 
its words are flying to the sky
like birds
to measure by their wings
the spaces of freedom
 
each day gives birth to a poem
in the palaces of imagination,
its words commence there
where the night
of nonexistence ends
 
in the evening, when the day is
passing away
in the embraces of darkness –
the poem remains forever
imperishable
like Logos
 
 
                         X 2002