Photo: Francis Sánchez.
One day a long time ago, I drew the word birch
to my favourite and beloved poet Herberto Padilla,
the word which he could never climb in such a short life
the place where we had gone running to with our eyes
so little we cut ourselves with the crystal of the dead
One day I gave him like a saddened thief
new words, undomesticated
like iron knees
transparent embraces
that bow to the touch along with the spike
hard mouth of distant almonds
One day I said to him the word Rest
stop walking on the ground
because this is the greatest marvel, that of the trees
don’t leave alone into the dream,
don’t exasperate alive before the crowd
And the word Stay
you don’t have to prove where we spend the nights
you don’t have to say anything else
until the stars speak.
[Note the shape. The gaphics has to form a tree.]
Translated by: Ivana Recmanová
March 31 2011
