¡Saludos cordiales!
Este poema forma parte de un Desafío de 365 días de poesía inspirado en la foto. Esta es mi entrada 89, espero les guste.

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Cordial greetings!
This poem is part of a Challenge of 365 day of poetry inspired by the photo. This is my entry 89, I hope you like it.

“La escritura es la pintura de la voz”.

Voltaire

Un canto blanco de silente ceniza

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El poeta no canta, cruza las sombras.
Vuela alto a la velocidad del pánico.
Mientras un viento de sol parpadea
en las montañas,
su voz viaja en meandros congelados
que serpentean los horizontes de piedra.
Una luna veloz
espera que muerda la luz,
la noche.

El poeta viaja de un verso a otro
entre las montañas y el silencio blanco.
No canta ahora, sería inútil,
esquiva la sombra y el vértigo
sin pronunciar palabra.
Bajo este largo invierno
su voz es un relámpago
que está alumbrando ahora
un canto blanco de silente ceniza.

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“Writing is the painting of the voice”.

Voltaire

A white song of silent ash

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The poet does not sing, he crosses the shadows.
He flies high at the speed of panic.
While a wind of sun blinks
in the mountains,
his voice travels in frozen meanders
that snake the stone horizons.
A moon that moves quickly
wait for the light to bite,
the night.

the poet travels from one verse to another
between the mountains and the white silence.
Don't sing now, it would be useless,
dodge shadow and vertigo
without saying a word.
Under this long winter
His voice is a flash of lightning
that is illuminating now
a white song of silent ash.

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Written by Zeleira Cordero @zeleiracordero.

04/02/2019

Photo by Tobias Mrzyk on Unsplash
Separator:
Cat

For your kind reading... Thanks!

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