poem poems


I tried to wake-up, but I left to where
ambitious miners die and gems abound.
There, buried in the deepest clay, I found
a golden nugget showing mystic glare.
I held it in my hands with special care,
while hiding it and looking all around,
I tried to wake-up.

Since I had never seen a gem so rare,
I ran across the cold and humid ground,
and could not see or hear the growing sound
of ghosts that sang a song I could not bear.
I tried to wake up.




Poems: A page of Rosa Clement´s site
© (1999)