Colors
I see a night wherein temples sing,
I see battlements that whistle in fog,
I see a darkness full of stones
and memories return to tomorrow.
All the solitude of the mountains
descends in a black avalanche down slopes
as I hear the immense night arriving,
catastrophe of light, drunk bells.
Everything lost always returns to my eyes
always returns to my eyes, always returns
what was left behind on the road.
And just like black always returns
to its faithful whiteness, my destiny
is secretly blue, like the snow.
21 October 1978
{ Ludovico Silva, Cuaderno de la noche, Caracas: Editorial Arte, 1979 }
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