I´m fishing memories
lying in the bottom
of the ocean of my life...

Can´t catch the bird
of my past days
then it comes to me
in a betraying flight
to tear off my eyes,
covering me with shadow.

However, I can collect
some dirty pages
of my life
and burn them down...
Yet I am able to bathe
in your river,
where my memories
lose use for a while ...

May be it isn´t too late
to sow new seeds
in your fertile fields
to feed my mortal hopes
with your immortal faith.


SONGO
2-20-04