Our mother was
A bench in the park,
And we were trees.
Our mother was a bench
With the watering can,
And we had water
To grow up.
© 15/1 –22
Nia patrino estis
benko en la la parko,
kaj ni estis arboj.
Nia patrino estis benko
kun la akvumilo,
kaj ni havis akvon
por plenkreski.
© Yelling Rosa
15/1 –22
PLEASE NOTE:
All coincidences with real people
and events are unintentional. These verses are just poetry, not
documentaries. Please don’t take anything literally but metaphorical. I
am not the same person as the narrator of the poems like the guitarist
is not the tune that comes out from his guitar with the help of his
fingers.
Kial ne tago por virusoj
ĉar ili estas kiel ni:
mortigante ĉiun vivanton
ili tuŝas.
© Yelling Rosa
6/1 –22
Why there is not a day for viruses
As they are like us:
Killing every living creature
They touch.
© Yelling Rosa
6/1 –22
Birdo en la nesto
atendante la finon de
sia speco.
Homoj estas
jam proksime.
© Yelling Rosa
6/1 –22
A bird in the nest
Waiting for the end
Of its kind.
People are
Already close.
© Yelling Rosa
6/1 –22
ATTENTIO ANIMI!
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