(when a poet looks at the universe as a ball in his hands, what can he say while imprisoned between six walls ?!)

I am alone, sitting in my room.

My silence fights with me

and I try

not to surrender.

I talk to the walls,

I have nothing but my books

and a letter.

Yes, a letter,

not knowing who brought it here!

" I love you, and this is a fact.

Do not get me wrong!

What people told you was a lie.

I love you forever,

so long. "

No, no.  Nobody loves me,

I love nobody.

I do not love the way people love,

hate chains in love.

Do not chain my feelings.

I am free.

I was born free.

Let me love free.

Do you blame me

if I tell you I am in love

with some point in space,

at some time?

Yes, I am in love

with amazing worlds

nobody knows.

Everything in life is love.

Let me tell you,

childbirth, child death,

planets movements,

things in decay —

these are all love.

So, tell me please,

what is not love?

Einstein theories,

Picasso painting,

poems of unknown poets —

these are all love.

So, tell me please,

what is not love?

The light and the darkness,

the misery and happiness,

and waves interference —

these are all love.

So, tell me please,

what is not love?

I hear it a lot,

do not think of this existence,

do not ask what and why?

eat, drink, and play,

nothing deserves thought.

Yet,

I will think free, and

ask free, for I am free.

Published in The Eloquent Umbrella, Oregon, USA, 1998.