<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2006115585112129091</id><updated>2011-12-06T07:08:42.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POEM OF THE DAY</title><subtitle type='html'>English version of POEMA DEL DIA by Peruvian poet Adrian Arias translated by San Francisco icon poet NINA SERRANO</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poemoftheday2007.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2006115585112129091/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poemoftheday2007.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>POEMA DEL DIA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qOLuuHZjk4c/Tt4v5DruoeI/AAAAAAAAChM/KtHYZ3QH40Q/s220/Adrian%2Bby%2BAnais2011_e.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2006115585112129091.post-6767068440888816109</id><published>2008-02-11T04:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T13:06:06.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POEM OF THE DAY translated by NINA SERRANO</title><content type='html'>All poems written day by day in 2007&lt;br /&gt;(click on images to enlarge)&lt;br /&gt;((photos and drawings by adrian))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C3IWW7bCI/AAAAAAAAARk/LneknPIuiXo/s1600-h/01patioAdrian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C3IWW7bCI/AAAAAAAAARk/LneknPIuiXo/s400/01patioAdrian.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165830126662544418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 8&lt;br /&gt;(in the darkness, while you caress me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The equilibrium&lt;br /&gt;of the moon up in the sky&lt;br /&gt;is held in your hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(January 8 dawn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C242W7bBI/AAAAAAAAARc/LbcN4ztPRTA/s1600-h/02patioAdrianPP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C242W7bBI/AAAAAAAAARc/LbcN4ztPRTA/s400/02patioAdrianPP.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165829860374572050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 29&lt;br /&gt;(for Humberto)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are Gods enclosed in a grain of sand&lt;br /&gt;our small body is a giant&lt;br /&gt;filled with all we have been&lt;br /&gt;all we are being&lt;br /&gt;all we will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a fetus in the womb&lt;br /&gt;-a cry and a little blood-&lt;br /&gt;a child learning to speak&lt;br /&gt;-a tooth and a little blood-&lt;br /&gt;a blushing adolescent &lt;br /&gt;-a kiss and a little bit of blood-&lt;br /&gt;a traveler, a reader, a lover&lt;br /&gt;-a poem and a little bit of blood-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are Gods of blood&lt;br /&gt;enclosed in a small body of sand&lt;br /&gt;trying to think what we should think&lt;br /&gt;when we should be trying to think the incredible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(29 of February, between 5 and 6 in the morning)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C1u2W7bAI/AAAAAAAAARU/-mIAiKAz_qI/s1600-h/MachuPicchuDream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C1u2W7bAI/AAAAAAAAARU/-mIAiKAz_qI/s400/MachuPicchuDream.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165828589064252418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIA 36&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neruda writes a poem looking at the ruins&lt;br /&gt;at the same time that I cut a fresh fish filet&lt;br /&gt;illuminated by the lighthouse that helps travelers&lt;br /&gt;and your mind transports itself to the childhood of Gypsies&lt;br /&gt;traveling against the wind and sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the seasons mix&lt;br /&gt;now Neruda is a Gypsy who tries my ceviche&lt;br /&gt;in a desert full of lighthouses&lt;br /&gt;and this kitchen faces the ocean of your childhood and I&lt;br /&gt;in the heights of Machu-Picchu see the fish flying&lt;br /&gt;from my next poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(Morning of February 5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C0SGW7a-I/AAAAAAAAARE/rBGrih0mNk8/s1600-h/07patioAdrianPP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C0SGW7a-I/AAAAAAAAARE/rBGrih0mNk8/s400/07patioAdrianPP.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165826995631385570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 81&lt;br /&gt;What do we do when we are next to the person we love?&lt;br /&gt;(select an option)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Give yourself over sweetly to the suffering of a caress.&lt;br /&gt;- Listen attentively to the sound produced by kissing her lips&lt;br /&gt;- Let yourself go with the trembling of your skin that seems to burn you in an embrace&lt;br /&gt;- Leave a path of kisses to mark your way back&lt;br /&gt;- Just look at her&lt;br /&gt;- All of the above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(March 22)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C0j2W7a_I/AAAAAAAAARM/dkhl_3Hk-Kc/s1600-h/10patioAdrian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C0j2W7a_I/AAAAAAAAARM/dkhl_3Hk-Kc/s400/10patioAdrian.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165827300574063602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 86&lt;br /&gt;What are shoes good for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- To take us to places that they know better than we do&lt;br /&gt;- To find the footsteps you left when you went&lt;br /&gt;- To cherish the hidden desire to jump for joy&lt;br /&gt;- To eat the steps that others have left forgotten in the corners&lt;br /&gt;- To live at our feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(March 27)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CyuGW7a8I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/yWWhL6-R1U0/s1600-h/03patioAdrianPP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CyuGW7a8I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/yWWhL6-R1U0/s400/03patioAdrianPP.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165825277644467138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 91&lt;br /&gt;What is a coincidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Two different watches running fast at the same time but in different pockets&lt;br /&gt;- The shadow of a butterfly that no longer is&lt;br /&gt;- The flower that sleeps inside each stone&lt;br /&gt;- The small stone we gathered along the way years ago and now we find in our pocket&lt;br /&gt;- Your eyes that don’t know that they close just at the moment that I cross in front of you, or maybe not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(April 1)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CyEmW7a7I/AAAAAAAAAQs/_ME_ztEsXr4/s1600-h/rocAve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CyEmW7a7I/AAAAAAAAAQs/_ME_ztEsXr4/s400/rocAve.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165824564679895986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 216&lt;br /&gt;(for Julia)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the ocean she returns every night&lt;br /&gt;crossing the border of Moron awakening her with a kiss on her eyes&lt;br /&gt;moistening the edge of her blanket with salt&lt;br /&gt;where she guards the story of an embrace&lt;br /&gt;the story of a dance she learned&lt;br /&gt;that lit the flame&lt;br /&gt;to keep on living&lt;br /&gt;the dance that she gives you on every stage&lt;br /&gt;the pain of  your absence is of flesh and bone&lt;br /&gt;of cloud your body of mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(August 4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CwK2W7a5I/AAAAAAAAAQc/InsYYMQBVbc/s1600-h/flor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CwK2W7a5I/AAAAAAAAAQc/InsYYMQBVbc/s400/flor.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165822473030822802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 244&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see you growing and I start looking for&lt;br /&gt;all your childhood photos&lt;br /&gt;as if I could feed time backwards&lt;br /&gt;so that you return to my arms&lt;br /&gt;with this aroma that you hide behind your neck&lt;br /&gt;that saves me each bad day&lt;br /&gt;and makes think about how you will be as a  grown up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see you grow&lt;br /&gt;and I take photos from every angle&lt;br /&gt;not to feed my desire for you to stay as you are&lt;br /&gt;but to play a trick on time&lt;br /&gt;and every once in a while&lt;br /&gt;play with your stuffed dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(September 1)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CxQmW7a6I/AAAAAAAAAQk/N3pJ2L-t7ik/s1600-h/camino1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CxQmW7a6I/AAAAAAAAAQk/N3pJ2L-t7ik/s400/camino1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165823671326698402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 255&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have to confess that the moon&lt;br /&gt;is a hole that I had to cut in the sky&lt;br /&gt;so that you wouldn’t be afraid in the dark of the night&lt;br /&gt;and the sun is a pile of fireflies &lt;br /&gt;that your mother tied  by the wings&lt;br /&gt;and put in a crystal ball&lt;br /&gt;the sea is an interminable collection of transparent cloth&lt;br /&gt;that your grandmother helped me sew&lt;br /&gt;the fish are the Polaroid applause of friends&lt;br /&gt;and the islands are wrinkled hats&lt;br /&gt;of elegant gentlemen that stay sleeping beneath the water&lt;br /&gt;the birds and the stars are drawings that grandfather never stops painting&lt;br /&gt;This is the way of the world of my dear &lt;br /&gt;a pile of rare things stuck on top of the other&lt;br /&gt;and others yet to be stuck on&lt;br /&gt;waiting for your hands to grow along with your smile&lt;br /&gt;to make a great collage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(September 12)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CvCGW7a3I/AAAAAAAAAQM/Ac0bJL8g09U/s1600-h/DSCF8226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CvCGW7a3I/AAAAAAAAAQM/Ac0bJL8g09U/s400/DSCF8226.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165821223195339634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 257&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today your mouth has eaten all&lt;br /&gt;the words of my mouth and in silence&lt;br /&gt;I have loved you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(September 14)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CrbmW7a2I/AAAAAAAAAQE/k4dP4l8kACU/s1600-h/lunascruzadas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CrbmW7a2I/AAAAAAAAAQE/k4dP4l8kACU/s400/lunascruzadas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165817263235492706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 258&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the moon&lt;br /&gt;has woven wall to wall&lt;br /&gt;the island where my body&lt;br /&gt;refreshes itself from the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(September 15)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CqrmW7a0I/AAAAAAAAAP0/pSPZjj5HpXk/s1600-h/arbol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7CqrmW7a0I/AAAAAAAAAP0/pSPZjj5HpXk/s400/arbol.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165816438601771842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 284&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Individual performance exercise for rainy days 1-&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;raise the  hand that we normally write with&lt;br /&gt;pretending we had a pencil between the thumb and the index&lt;br /&gt;press the fingers and begin to draw in the air&lt;br /&gt;small circles rectangular stairs large curves&lt;br /&gt;let your hand keep moving in the air&lt;br /&gt;drawing without a previous road&lt;br /&gt;now much faster now&lt;br /&gt;much    s l o w e r    now much     s  l  o  w  e  r     yet&lt;br /&gt;until you feel your hand floating and your fingers separate&lt;br /&gt;now the drawing is a caress now&lt;br /&gt;raise the other hand&lt;br /&gt;now it’s a cloud now invisible bread&lt;br /&gt;that feeds desire now it is time to open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;now look at the drawing that remained&lt;br /&gt;only you can see it&lt;br /&gt;it last an instant but it lasts&lt;br /&gt;and it’s yours&lt;br /&gt;completely yours and now…&lt;br /&gt;now repeat the whole operation without making it a trick&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(October 11)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7Cq0mW7a1I/AAAAAAAAAP8/vQNPE_HrKLc/s1600-h/luna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7Cq0mW7a1I/AAAAAAAAAP8/vQNPE_HrKLc/s400/luna.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165816593220594514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 297&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luminescent and lacerating&lt;br /&gt;omnipresent even as it becomes invisible&lt;br /&gt;it doesn’t leave mark on the wound it causes&lt;br /&gt;opening and closing its impossible scar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(October 24)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7ClzWW7ayI/AAAAAAAAAPk/Nn-QbRAVQrI/s1600-h/173.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7ClzWW7ayI/AAAAAAAAAPk/Nn-QbRAVQrI/s400/173.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165811074187619106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 303&lt;br /&gt;-spirit of the black box-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was in the mind of that child&lt;br /&gt;with 97 commercials, 715 personalities and &lt;br /&gt;517, 823 unintelligible words&lt;br /&gt;in 3 hours and 52 minutes of high frequency waves&lt;br /&gt;erasing from its mind the first hug&lt;br /&gt;the first cry&lt;br /&gt;the first tooth&lt;br /&gt;the first flower&lt;br /&gt;telling it all that there is to forget&lt;br /&gt;to be really entertained&lt;br /&gt;only by the light&lt;br /&gt;the divine light of emptiness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(October 30)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7AnhWW7axI/AAAAAAAAAPc/tQjZ31jIDaw/s1600-h/DSCF8228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7AnhWW7axI/AAAAAAAAAPc/tQjZ31jIDaw/s400/DSCF8228.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165672226484874002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 320&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon dies of sorrow&lt;br /&gt;the cloud of shame&lt;br /&gt;of blue dies the day&lt;br /&gt;and of a breakdown the trees&lt;br /&gt;on learning that there is no cure for forgetting&lt;br /&gt;nor relief for memory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;November 16)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7AmYWW7awI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Xwl4xGYORVk/s1600-h/bellodurmiente2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7AmYWW7awI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Xwl4xGYORVk/s400/bellodurmiente2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165670972354423554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 327&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh diminutive human body&lt;br /&gt;suspended between heaven and earth&lt;br /&gt;fighting every instant with gravity&lt;br /&gt;swollen with fluids that nourish and weigh you down&lt;br /&gt;with organs that grow and deform&lt;br /&gt;what am I going to do with you&lt;br /&gt;in addition to scratch if you itch me&lt;br /&gt;and cover you if you feel cold&lt;br /&gt;Let me sit on the edge of the bed&lt;br /&gt;to try to understand you&lt;br /&gt;I will undress you a little more in the silence of dawn&lt;br /&gt;And I will travel with you wherever you take me&lt;br /&gt;I trust in the routes of your blood&lt;br /&gt;and the footsteps your shadow leaves on passing&lt;br /&gt;only let me go with you&lt;br /&gt;will you come with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(November 23)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7Cvr2W7a4I/AAAAAAAAAQU/bXIOvYkPdPs/s1600-h/fosforo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7Cvr2W7a4I/AAAAAAAAAQU/bXIOvYkPdPs/s400/fosforo2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165821940454878082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 344&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The birth of a silence&lt;br /&gt;is written in the agony of a sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(December 10)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7Akj2W7avI/AAAAAAAAAPM/RL6eO9so98c/s1600-h/fosforo5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7Akj2W7avI/AAAAAAAAAPM/RL6eO9so98c/s400/fosforo5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165668970899663602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 345&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence is the slave of fear&lt;br /&gt;even though we treat fear like a king&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(December 11)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7AkA2W7auI/AAAAAAAAAPE/3RsTdt5Wyeo/s1600-h/fosforo7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7AkA2W7auI/AAAAAAAAAPE/3RsTdt5Wyeo/s400/fosforo7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165668369604242146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 349&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We keep our coins in small boxes&lt;br /&gt;that we didn’t use at the proper time&lt;br /&gt;because we wanted to remember a place that we already forgot&lt;br /&gt;stamps that already lost their value&lt;br /&gt;and their beauty is debatable&lt;br /&gt;locks of hair from someone who was very special&lt;br /&gt;and who suddenly we don’t remember any more&lt;br /&gt;secrets that went out to all but we persist in maintaining&lt;br /&gt;they keep on being secrets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(December 15)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7ESyWW7bDI/AAAAAAAAARw/y64jVQqpPjo/s1600-h/piedraMP1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7ESyWW7bDI/AAAAAAAAARw/y64jVQqpPjo/s400/piedraMP1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165930903775177778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAY 363&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stone knows when to release into nothing&lt;br /&gt;it knows why when and how&lt;br /&gt;the immortal stone makes its death and knows how to hold its breath&lt;br /&gt;just to continue spying on the moment of our death&lt;br /&gt;the stone knows everything&lt;br /&gt;my body doesn’t know anything and every day&lt;br /&gt;goes further from its beginnings&lt;br /&gt;but the stone envies me my numbered days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(December 30, 2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These 20 poems were read at the Red Hills Books in San Francisco CA on February 9, 2008&lt;br /&gt;by Nina Serrano &amp; Adrian Arias&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2006115585112129091-6767068440888816109?l=poemoftheday2007.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://poemoftheday2007.blogspot.com/' title='POEM OF THE DAY translated by NINA SERRANO'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poemoftheday2007.blogspot.com/feeds/6767068440888816109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2006115585112129091&amp;postID=6767068440888816109' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2006115585112129091/posts/default/6767068440888816109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2006115585112129091/posts/default/6767068440888816109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poemoftheday2007.blogspot.com/2008/02/poem-of-day-translated-by-nina-serrano.html' title='POEM OF THE DAY translated by NINA SERRANO'/><author><name>POEMA DEL DIA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qOLuuHZjk4c/Tt4v5DruoeI/AAAAAAAAChM/KtHYZ3QH40Q/s220/Adrian%2Bby%2BAnais2011_e.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NvPZwYKTjko/R7C3IWW7bCI/AAAAAAAAARk/LneknPIuiXo/s72-c/01patioAdrian.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
