QUIZÁ MAÑANA PUEDA VER...

En el envés de un espejo
veo mi tiempo peregrinar,
y en su bisel quisiera bordar
la experiencia en su reflejo.

Horas gentiles de un pasado,
derroches de primaveras,
sonrisas dulces y meras,
miradas de joven cultivado,

donde nada era pecado.
El amor predominaba
y en cada caricia se pactaba
el respeto eterno y acuñado.

Ya nada se ve igual
en éste tiempo moderno,
donde el hombre, en un infierno;
de la verdad… no pisa su umbral.

Quizá mañana pueda ver
en el destello de ese cristal,
una cascada substancial
y a ese tiempo poder volver.

Derechos de Autor©

Poem: MAYBE TOMORROW CAN SEE ...
Author: Jorge Aimar Francese Hardaick - Argentina
(Self-portrait painting by George Grosz)

On the underside of a mirror
I see my time as a pilgrim,
and on its bezel I would like to embroider
the experience in his reflection.

Gentle hours of a past,
waste of springs,
sweet and simple smiles,
looks of cultivated youth,

where nothing was sin.
Love predominated
and in each caress was agreed
the eternal and coined respect.

Nothing looks the same
in this modern time,
where man, in a hell;
of the truth ... do not step on its threshold.

Maybe tomorrow I can see
in the flash of that crystal,
a substantial waterfall
and at that time to be able to return.

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