Sobre un yunque aún sombrío
mi soledad fría mece
esperando en el hastío...
Un azul recuerdo crece
Quizá ella, tal vez, más quiera
ser forjada por la maza
que golpeando aboliera
la pena que vil me abraza.
¿Cuánto más he de esperar?
Tengo los años añejos
sin siquiera festejar
mis pensamientos parejos.
He de saber aguardar
aquel tiempo venidero,
que es de buen sabio esperar
y no ser terco asidero.
Jorge Aimar Francese Hardaick
Argentina
KNOW SAVE
- art minor quatrains / rhyme ab - ab
On an anvil still dark
my cold loneliness rocks
waiting in boredom ...
A blue memory grows.
Maybe she, maybe she wants more
be forged by the mace
that striking abolished
the shame that vile embraces me.
How much longer do I have to wait?
I have the old years
without even celebrating
my even thoughts.
I have to know how to save
that time to come
which is wise to wait
and not be stubborn hold.
Jorge Aimar Francese Hardaick
Writer and Poet - Argentina
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