Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Carmen García

There is a room with no light

There is a room with no light. Its colors are dark. In it move the secrets that someone whispers in her ear while she sleeps. She is not aware of the coming of dawn. If the sun shines, its rays don’t come in. This is the room where ancient masses are held that rescue the memory of the dead. Her presence is a sacrifice. She still doesn’t understand.

Hay una habitación sin luz

Hay una habitación sin luz

Hay una habitación sin luz. Sus colores son oscuros. Por ella transitan secretos que alguien le dice al oído mientras duerme. Si amanece ella no lo sabe. Si el sol ilumina su luz no penetra. En la habitación se celebran misas antiguas que rescatan la memoria de los muertos. Su presencia es un sacrificio. Ella todavía no lo entiende.
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There is a room with no light

There is a room with no light. Its colors are dark. In it move the secrets that someone whispers in her ear while she sleeps. She is not aware of the coming of dawn. If the sun shines, its rays don’t come in. This is the room where ancient masses are held that rescue the memory of the dead. Her presence is a sacrifice. She still doesn’t understand.

There is a room with no light

There is a room with no light. Its colors are dark. In it move the secrets that someone whispers in her ear while she sleeps. She is not aware of the coming of dawn. If the sun shines, its rays don’t come in. This is the room where ancient masses are held that rescue the memory of the dead. Her presence is a sacrifice. She still doesn’t understand.
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