From “The shade of old spectacles”


You, little prince

Standing with thirst in your throat

And the witch

Your own reflection

Clear and still in what’s left of the river.

It is time to say goodbye

Even if she will never die.

It is time to let things be

To let her grow

To let her become a rose in your garden.

Now hear the cracking sound of your fractured bones

Growing and welding to one another

The snakes now can slither away in fear

From what you have grown to be.

Time can never go backwards

But for once entropy gets a little twist


Soon the windows of trivial stories light up

Without distracting you from what matters

The grass that grows bigger than pines

The river that flows and flows

And flows

The tree is revived and the rose

Blossoms in the sunrise

Bushes, ferns and green ponds

Open your eyes,

Unscarred by the shatters of glass

Can you see it now?

Can you see the colors of the wheatfields

You always thought to be an arid empty place?

Can you the shades of the wilderness?

The life you had sown for yourself

It is enough

This will be enough

Yes there are snakes chasing the mice

Yes there are winters that turn fresh water into ice

Fruits that are poisoned

And willows from the past

But there is so much more.

Moss as bed linen

Streets leading to more adventures.

Stars that laugh

Ruins that decay

Roots that spread.


The beautiful trees

Yield healthy berries

A shy flower hiding its spines

A wind blowing their scent.


The little prince.

Our inner child

The allegory of our most genuine way to see life

The recipient of our most intense emotions

The little prince,

Who now sits down on the floor

Being one shade among the others

Next to the blooms he waters.

They all admire the flowing of time

The nature growing back

They all look at their reflection in the stream

Wrinkling and twitching

They all feel the wind blowing.


He takes a deep breath

He’s breathing.

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