Reading by a famous poet

It was all my fault
Why did I want him to make the stars swing?
He had some stories to tell
about the earth and his boyish dreams
I wanted him to make me feel the chill
of the less inhabited corners in myself
But he was as warm as a pub
full of singing and dancing

I liked him because I could see
how his hands shook during his reading
He had a smile like the afternoon sun
and a brother working as a farmer
But he was still too faraway
counting the coloured beads of clay
forgetting about witches
who would count the stars.
(A Season of Blue-Grey Thoughts, 1999)

Sounds of solitude

When crows are crying
nobody seems to care
Cold November rain
does not sound the same
as rain in May

You are afraid
of writing letters
you say
I hear the black bird croak
so far away
(A Season of Blue-Grey Thoughts, 1999)

Haiku

In the foam of clouds
the moonshine is a lighthouse
to the dreams you lost

Yogurt with honey

Yogurt with honey must be the dish
of gods in heaven, which, luckily,
some people can also have
here on earth

I did not know that anything
could taste so light and perfect

To you, apparently, this is a normal thing
And when I tell you that my life's aim
is to find wisdom and tranquillity
you wonder: Are you lacking it?

Maybe I shall try
to have some yogurt with honey every day
(A Season of Blue-Grey Thoughts, 1999)