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Spirit World

Your own soul, with the force of the divine

Universe, is how you drive the demons from your

Life.  Imagination illuminated

By the Paraguayan sun,

And the spirit flows like the great

River Paraguay.  You mold life

As an Indian artisan makes his sculpture

In ceramic mud.


And if all flies into unreal sky

And drives into the most glorious sea,

The ship swimming and swaying between

Might be made of bliss, I don`t know;

But I feel beauty as if I were,

And luck surrounds me, sometimes with love,

Which is happiness of the living light,

Joy breaking its waves on me.


To get lost in Paraguay is the ideal,

All alone, noone knowing you are here:

Bliss, in night-dreams, days of heat,

Nothing happening, but in your mind:

Bliss, for throwing useless blocks

Heavily from the mind;


What is it for an immature child,

To live in Eternity`s sunrise?

Sweet into the deep night, madrugada,

Peace enveloping all in dream,

Silent music of a million smiles,

Here I am, still alive,

Rolling like clouds before the sun,

Healing the wound that noone knows,

Feeling soft warm love like a thirsty

Boy, panting under rain.





Those dreams are removed from moving time,

Therein I lie, so excellently,

The moon has kissed me yesternight,

Today I feel ripples from every star.

I escape into my brain

Because you touch me as the moon,

The sun moves my inner soul,

And I await you, beautiful soul.


Tim Cloudsley nació Cambridge, Inglaterra. Es sociologo, escritor y poeta. Trabajó como profesor en la Escuela de Idiomas, de la Universidad Industrial de Santander, Bucaramanga en el ámbito de estudios culturales y literatura.

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