January 04, 2007

The Pep

If you see a hill of foam
It is my poetry that you see:
My poetry is a mountain
And is also a feather fan.

My poems are like a dagger
Sprouting flowers from the hilt:
My poetry is like a fountain
Sprinkling streams of coral water.

My poems are light green
And flaming red;
My poetry is a wounded deer
Looking for the forest's sanctuary.

My poems please the brave:
My poems, short and sincere,
Have the force of steel
Which forges swords.

Jose The Pep Marti

Posted by Val Prieto at January 4, 2007 02:27 PM

Comments

The Pep!..that's priceless. you ate it!

Posted by: Gusano [TypeKey Profile Page] at January 4, 2007 02:48 PM

Unfortunately, as is often the case, especially with poetry, a great deal is lost in translation.

Posted by: asombra [TypeKey Profile Page] at January 4, 2007 02:55 PM


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