I would give all for a handful of soil.
There I left my footsteps for the first time.
A Handful of soil was swallowed by the rubble.
For the handful of soil, that I carry in my bosom.
Handful of soil, where I step freely,
where my heart beats joyfully.
Handful of soil that remains behind the nails.
For her sun flowing in my veins.
13 maggio 2024
Altri contenuti che potrebbero piacerti
Guardians of the graves
di Nastasimir Franovic
Our graves are made of rough stone. Gray as a rainy sky.
Scattered across flowery meadows like(…)