Ouverture for Samira

(fragments)

Eric Ponty

I–p / Samira

The time didn't take your face

I sculpted it so that more triplet

I melted him as your image...

I see you as a continent,

past and your present...

It is sweet as the pulp of the fruit

that emerges of the spring...

1

I want to sing you as the spring

that it flows with its aromatic effluviums,

they pass and they overstep for the time

for the landscape that was immerged.

I want to sing you with the spring

adensada for the songs of the birds

submerged in its basic initials

as unexplored petals of a flower.

2

Your silence transfigures in the afternoon

that melancholic it hides inside of the groan,

of one time that was discovered past,

unable to dialogue with the present.

Your silence is a dialogue without speech

an ouverture that plays the infinite,

shade that hides the own afternoon.

3

I try to keep your name

as an angelical enigma

the latitude of your dimension

in the transformation of the desire.

I try to find, the meaning,

to transfigure the legend that it was forgotten,

to unfold of the future for the past,

where its complement was revealed I unite.

4

In the legend your name was registered,

a history that transcends your speech,

that narrated us as it was the beginning

where jumped the color of your hair.

The history is permeated

where princesses were submerged

in the other landscapes advindas of another legends.

5

Nude is the source that flows

infinite statue that makes sleepy

sôfrega in your glance that murmurs,

beautiful oasis of a deserted embrumecido.

Nude is the fog of a sea,

that it hides the blue sky of the afternoon,

that plays the torrid sand that burns.

6

I think of the reflex of your hair,

as waves that they are broken against the beach,

where the castles of sand are ended.

I think of the effluvium of your hair,

where the aroma reminds the dense forest

that is still hidden by your dreams.

7

I think of the density of the night

that hides its clear face

as a dense night veil.

I think of the clarity of the moon

that simulates the reflex of your face

lit up in the afternoon that are ended.