The Echo is a silence

The echo is a silence.
The echo is a silence.
Y la melodia del tu lengua
Es perdido.

Y yo tango un vocabulario limitado.

Y yo no puedo pronunciar correctamente.

Y yo no tango las palabras.

Entonces,
The echo is a silence.
The great cavern of the sentiment is empty.
The canyon of my love for you,
lamenting.

The echo is a silence.
The tradition is a memory.
And the metaphor a butterfly.
The echo is a silence.
The echo is a silence
Repeating in the sheets
On the fourth floor of St. Vincent’s.

The echo is a silence.
The vision is askew.
The visionary, confused.
The imagery like winter.

The echo is a silence.
The coffee grows cold.
And the dance is lonely.
And the kiss is anxious.

Come home,
Esperemos.

Tracey Luszcz
Copyright 2004