Poem: 'Black Star.'


More than forty years ago,
I can hear your song,
Yes, 'I heard your voice,'
Something magical happenned:
The Black Star must have been waiting.

Waiting my dream and feelings,
To become alive, again.

In the past I am,
Listening to your music, voice,
Only in that place I know
Such voices sound like that,
When the first sunlight of the morning,
Heats the garden where I hold,
Near the flowers and plants,
The cup of coffee I can smell.

At least, I don't feel the loneliness
And I I've forgotten the present-time.
My family, and those years, remain all the same,
Thanks Black Morning Star,
We are all together again.

The car's out there,
Waiting for us; we're going to beach.

The same colours, the same smells, the same windy weather, again.
I turn on the radio and listen in perfect stereo "Tiny Sparrow".
The palms, moving free with the wind,
Behind, the mountain with the rock,
As ever, the mountain behind...

More than forty years ago,
I can hear your song,
Yes, 'I heard your voice,'
Something magical happenned:
In Lanzarote Island,
"El sol nació, murió la luna."
The Black Star must have been waiting.
Waiting my dream and feelings,
To become alive, again.

C.G.F.L.



"Negra Estrella". PicNic ('Tiny Sparrow'.)

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