by Snowdon King
time…
its hands never tremble
it is slowly passing its scalpel on our faces
like a serial killer in love with its art
only my hands tremble
when I try to shave
I always say to myself
today I have to be more beautiful
perhaps I will meet the sublime
I have been wearing the same clothing
for a lifetime my word
I walk the streets laughing
perhaps I will disappear in this clatter
and time will lose me from sight
yet people turn back to their homes
I am left alone facing the destiny
my hands tremble with love
I am surviving the game where people hide
after each sunset my hands are trembling
a bow to you
who taught me to live by the rule
everything reduces to the one and only clothing
in which I was born I live I die
(translator - Ioana Tirtirau)
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Snowdon King (born Ionuţ Caragea in April 12, 1975, Constanţa, Romania), is a Canadian writer living in Montréal since 2003. He is poet, science fiction novelist and quotes author. He is member in Union of Writers of Romania, co-founder and vice-president of Québec Romanian Writers' Association. In one well known essay he was named as ''The poet born on Google''. His other pen-name is ''Snowdon King''. In 2009 does an extended interview on ''Virtual literature and the Google generation trend'' with the participation of many well known authors, prose and poetry writers, literary critics. In this interview Ionuţ Caragea brings forth a new vision on the ''literary trend of the Google generation''. (www.ionutcaragea.ro)
Last updated September 24, 2011