There is something miraculously beautiful
in the poet's mind,
in how he lowers words into colorful pearls,
magical pearls that understand other souls,
cling to other hearts and ennoble them.
There is a magical way in which poetry
manages to touch those who love it.
It’s a magic that cannot be explained by science,
that the poetic soul understands when it’s by itself,
in silence.
There is also a miracle above all miracles:
with one push of a button,
the beads of verse begin to fly
and fly around the planet.
The world of poets
becomes a world without borders,
and such a path is light for others.
What a wonderful feeling!
A poet sends away his precious pearls,
knowing that hundreds of hearts,
all over the world,
will open to embrace them.
Then loneliness is no longer loneliness,
then sadness is no longer sadness,
wounds don’t hurt so much,
because the touch of poetry is the healing touch.