There is so little known about
all this madness
the thirst of many years
the accumulated poison
in an urge to possess
subtle sting
of criminal silences
through millions of stone beings
what remains, are the transparent roots appearing
a return in time to that other time
quietly, the grief. Loudly, the pain
the slightest hope
will form the exact language for
the thread and the hair
the fingers of the wind
the caress of fabrics
the murmur of streams
the one who captures color
all the bells
trembling in the ticking
pulse of light
the same cloudy yellow sky
above all, the magnificent
the green-gold of your eyes
I have never seen tenderness as great
a doorway open to
the violence of being
inky worlds
still full of sensations
where shall I turn my eyes?
~ Cento of lines taken from Frida Kahlo’s Diary, translated by Barbara Crow de Toledo and Ricardo Pohlenz, p. 205, 206, 208, 209, 210, 213-216, 227, 229, 243, 249, 270, 273, 275
4 thoughts on "There is so little known about"
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I always love reading your work.
Thank you!
Nice, Karen. Although there is much to delight in in our living, I also think there is much truth to ” the violence of being.” Such extremes of emotions required to be a human.
Thanks, Melva. Agree about the “violence of being.”