Kite Hands (Transalation Of Kamay na Guryon)
Your supple, kite-like hands
bludgeoning with the weathered wind,
prancing on the frontiers of restrictions
It seems to me that you can graze
and seize the sun without burning
But the proximity of distance
shorn by the figure of your ashen hands,
in between the sun's gilded breaths
and the pitch black shadows of its dance
is but a splendid, fragmented illusion
And the svelte cord fastening the kite
is the only lace fixing this illusion
to the reality that was seeded
by the zephyr winds of hope
and the meek heaving of memories
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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