Poezie

Sonnet 17

1 min lectură·30 iunie 2008

Mediu

I\'m drunk today, my lover, as I will be tomorrow

And when it will be Sunday I\'ll drink for our love;

I\'m bombed tonight, my sugar, as if I had to borrow

Some guns for my illusions with bullets from above.

I\'m like no others, neither they will sustain my arrow

In their anemic shadow that lickers in sweet wine,

But if you saw the meaning of what they were - a narrow

Seclusion - you\'ll be hiding below my graceful line.

It\'s true... the bowl is crying because of its damnation,

While my ecstatic whistle blows fire in your ear;

Just when the rain stops bleeding, you\'ll find me in vibration

Towards the face of summer - one day in every year.

I hope you understand that my nothingness is what they

Call the subversive sorrow in manners of their own way.

29.06.2008

016.107

Ionut Popa. “Sonnet 17.” Atelier, Poezie.ro, https://poezie.ro/atelier/ionut-popa/poezie/1790299/sonnet-17

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