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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471341" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Into Your Harried Night I Break In Silence</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cicadas beat their metallic wings to compensate<br>the vehicles lying asleep in the oil-black road<br>without a trifle of noise - away with the moon<br>in a peripatetic espionage for the myriad<br>of faults swimming through the abysmal horizon<br>and here, in the glacial nooks of darkness, I trample<br>to a wistful invitation - to pain and its bride<br>unveiled from the lustrous gilt and the castigations<br>unraveled from the knotted tapestry its frangible<br>and haplessly finagling heart - still and alone tonight</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This silence sojourned to listen to you<br>as your world subsides with all the aeons <br>slithering into me with an impertinent pang<br>and I break for you, like a lifeless eye upfront <br>a motionless gloaming succumbing to its demise<br>And to break for you - your tides beating the shore<br>and the praying boulders on its shoulder, is all I can do<br>after ousting my sparrow-breaths on your mornings<br>or my tacit poems docked on your cigarette smoke, <br>I do not intend to come back like a smothering whiff<br>in the midst of your sudden toppling and heaving</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I break upon you, like a fist hurled at the sky<br>though I would never shatter the fastidious heavens<br>and though your hills loomed with secret legends, <br>but in my slivering, asunder from yours, I fold<br>like a sibilant knife dreading the patina of blood<br>I hope for your vitriol to whet itself as it rolled<br>upon the seething lions under the flames</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What a farcical charade has this life become<br>that I can only exhibit the shadows of our dusk<br>and its acquiescent pedagogy, for tonight, you break<br>like how my world of stones and graves began</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The art of war is etched in your palms and maps<br>Come back to your open window and lighted lamp<br>when the night hearkens your lacerating cries<br>stronger than the infernal demise that you will break<br>in the larceny of sounds in this transatlantic night</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471341" data-title="Into Your Harried Night I Break In Silence de Norman Santos" data-description="The cicadas beat their metallic wings to compensate
the vehicles lying asleep in the oil-black road
without a trifle of noise - away with the moon
in a peripatetic espionage for the myriad
of faults swimming through the abysmal horizon
and here, i..."></div>
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