POETRY

LOVE My soul was a light blue dress color of the sky. I left him on a cliff, at the sea, and naked I came to you, resembling a woman. And as a woman, I sat at your table, and I drank a cup of wine, I breathed in the scent of roses. You found me beautiful, that I looked …

A PORT IN THE MEDITERRANEAN I do not know what is more important, the spicy sweetness of bitter coffee, mixed with the taste of the first cigarette in the morning, or the smell of fish and boats, freshly painted. The washed clothes on the wire, between the almond trees in bloom, or the mountains that put them in prominence. No, …

BLACK MAPS Not the attendance of stones, nor the applauding wind, shall let you know you have arrived. Nor the sea that celebrates only departures, nor the mountains, nor the dying cities. Nothing will tell you, where you are. Each moment is a place, you’ve never been. You can walk, believing you cast a light around you. But how will …

SUMMER Summer climbs the mountains. Flowers overcolour and blanch. Men leave the sun and sit, tree-tented, by the cold creek. Horses bray, each apart in the warm air, and the long grass whiffles in a lime plain. Hushed and still, the horseherd stand in whiter-high; and wave the flies away with silk-swish tails; and colts clatter the air, rippling the …

ENTRE IRSE Y QUEDARSE > Entre irse y quedarse duda el día, enamorado de su transparencia. La tarde circular es ya bahía. En su quieto vaivén se mece el mundo. Todo es visible y todo es elusivo, todo está cerca y todo es intocable. Los papeles, el libro, el vaso, el lápiz reposan a la sombra de sus nombres. Latir …

LA NOCHE EN LA ISLA > Toda la noche he dormido contigo junto al mar en la isla. Salvaje y dulce eras entre el placer y el sueño, entre el fuego y el agua. Tal vez muy tarde nuestros sueños se unieron en lo alto o en el fondo, arriba como ramas que un mismo viento mueve, abajo como rojas …

SAYING SOMETHING  Things assume your shape. Discarded clothes, a damp shroud in the bathroom, vacant hands. This is not fiction. This is the plain and warm material of love. My heart assumes it. We wake. Our private language starts the day. We make familiar movements through the house. The dreams we have no phrases for slip through our fingers into …

I DO NOT WANT ANOTHER LIGHT THAT YOUR BODY FRONT OF THE MINE I do not want other light that your body front of the mine, absolute light, complete transparency. Clarity whose belly, as the bottom of the river, affirms itself with time, sinks with the blood . What have they done to durable and shiny materials, the heart of …

MELANCOLIA > Hermano, tú que tienes la luz, dime la mía. Soy como un ciego. Voy sin rumbo y ando a tientas. Voy bajo tempestades y tormentas, ciego de sueño y loco de armonía. Ése es mi mal. Soñar. La poesía es la camisa férrea de mil puntas cruentas que llevo sobre el alma. Las espinas sangrientas dejan caer las …

SHADOWS So I thought of you, and I’ve written so much about you, not to know who you were. In so many rooms I slept, without you by my side, and many are houses in which I lived, without you. Many are the cities where I met you. There are many things I have run out, or lost due to …