I was blinded by grace,
A prey torn from its shadow,
Entwined only to unravel.

Alive in a dead calm,
I was fire from which
Air is withheld,

A charged element.
An illegible signature,
I was that which

Otherwise serves to conceal.
An inaccessible room.
A sky divided by lightning.

Este belo poema de Eric Pankey, está na revista norte-americana “Image” e merece uma boa tradução em nossa língua. Quem se habilita a fazê-la?
Ver original.