Ink, Marker, Paper, Pencil
No frame
42 x 005 x 30 cm

The walls of what was your house

still ooze the scent

of your verses

and the silent steps

what to your window

they were getting closer,

they still hold the echo

of your voice,

flowing in river of words

printed on Al-motamid

with Dris Diuri

and other friends.

Mint sneaks through the doors

and the aroma of tea crosses the corridor.

Fragment of a poem to #Trinamercader written by Fernando de Agreda.

Las paredes de la que fue tu casa

todavía rezuman el aroma

de tus versos

y los pasos silenciosos

que a tu ventana

se acercaban,

aún sostienen el eco

de tu voz,

fluyendo en río de palabras

impresas en Al-motamid

junto a Dris Diuri

y otros amigos.

La menta se cuela por las puertas

y el aroma del té cruza el corredor.

Fragmento de un poema a Trina Mercader escrito por Fernando de Agreda.


1 in stock

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