Tablets VI

When the sun is absent

the flower misses her

and when the absence grows long

the flower looks inside herself

for another light.

2

My flower will not wither.

It’s drawn in my notebook.

3

I am the plural

who walks to you

as a singular one.

4

Urgent artificial tears wanted

for dry eyes.

Natural tears leaked

for centuries

into the rivers

and overflowed.

5

Before you shoot someone

remember their mother’s eyes

will follow you wherever you go

until she drowns you in her tears.

6

They didn’t like his idea

so they shot him in the head.

From the hole the bullet caused

his idea will reach the world

and unfurl like a climbing plant.

7

Only one heart resides

in each person

but each is a train full of people

who die

when you kill

what you think is one.

8

There’s a sun inside each book.

Come and bring the new day

that’s waiting for us to open.

9

She asked the night:

Why are you so dark?

Night answered:

So that the stars’ light

reaches you.

10

She asked the day:

Why don’t you light?

Day answered:

Because I became your shadow.

11

Life is beautiful and painful

like a feather pulled

from a wing.

12

When the pistachios ripen

we break their shells

like we do to the hearts

of our lovers.

13

If thieves come to your home

let them take everything

except your dreams.

Keep those in a safe box.

14

She dreams

and her friend completes the dream.

When they separate,

the Earth rotates

slower

and with half dreams.

15

The trees, like us,

resort to their roots

in times of danger.

16

During the pandemic

we are a forest—trees

standing alone together.

17

We watch our days:

a snowman melting away

as he should.

18

There are days we wait for

and they come

and there are days that happen to us

that we cannot avoid.

19

The bubbles in the aquarium

are the fish’s notes

about the world.

20

Like a patient teacher

the sun brightens our wrongdoings,

same time

every day.

21

When the bird is prevented

from singing,

his body turns into music,

filling the horizon.

22

The birds never ask

if you are going to heaven

or to hell

and they never divide the sky

into stations.

23

When the birds chirp in your head,

trust their message for you,

especially if they tell you,

for example: Flying

is your true home.

24

What if the guns

turn into pencils

in the hands of the soldiers

and they underline

the places on the map

as sites they must see

before they die?