In the days of love
The love of the once-sweet
made us sick
(a paroxysm of an unprecedented nostalgia
for the homeland with its uncut, unspoiled apple trees).
But we didn't know what love was.
and every night we dreamed
Under a clear sky with a few glimpses of despair
infants and babies
surrendered to the yoke of joyful pain.
When time cracked
and our faces were formed
prismatic, formless
It was too late to learn life.
What is he going to say?
Wandering through what has torn us apart
we scattered
like the children of dead parents
who can't
to share the inheritance
and they unjustly squander the inheritance.
photo by stas336, https://pixabay.com
