The christ

A man approached me on the road
and he did not seem a good man-
his face was caked with earth and blood,
so were his long and browny hands,
and the tunic he wore was torn.
I feared him and escaped from him
and cast him fully out my mind:
I am your christ, your lover true,
the man kept calling from behind-
You called and I have come to you.
But I had thought my lord would come
dressed in true silk and gold brocade,
not in the garb of a homeless man,
beaten by life, and dispossessed.
What would you give me were you to stay
inside my house and I your host?
If you woul let me be with you
I ´d give your money and house away
yet you won´t weep for what you lost.
You´d have no country, race or name
and one snow flake picked of the air
would surely feed us and delight us both.

core

I´ve hung my towels out the window to dry.
It´s what they do where the sun is still alive.

I´ve told the assembly what I did not like-
it´s what they do where people don´t lie.

I´ve put forth my chest to the thrust of the knife-
it´s what they do who do not fear to die.

I´ve wiped the tears off the little child´s face-
it´s what they do who can fend off pain.

I´ve learnt the languages of various birds
it´s what they do, who free themselves.

Eyeless the forest, the river and the sea
and I, alone with eyes to see,
my name, my eyes , my memory
have given all those thing to keep-
that´s what they do, who search to find
infinity.

cathedral

Temples were built
so that a man could walk in them
like an unimposing shadow,
scarcely visible in the dim light of God.
A god of stone, not of water or wind:
a pensive, melancholic, forever alone god.
Temples were built in the image
of the mind of men, full of cold,
secret recesses where the dead rot
eternally inside marble sepulchres.
By the cold god of men were temples built
so that a man could walk through them
in the shadow of his own god´s sorrow.

But a different god sings in the river
and ITS laughter is heard in the woods,
one against another the crystal leaves tinkle
with its wild laughter,
with the cold silks of the snow it descends
and engulfs all in its deathless dream.
This god has made the earth so a creature
could walk through it fully visible in the light,
so all shapes could be seen as they move
knowing freedom, and the spirit
which moves them is the same
that moves the sea and the night around the planet.
This is the god of glee who made the forests
an painted them a myriad hues
for the endless delight of the bird and the child.

element

I have lost my fear.
The sea can take me.
The wet earth can have me.
The desert can burn me and swallow me.
That is what the world is made for,
to destroy and bury
´till, of our having been
and having loved
nothing shall be remembered.
With me will sink
the voices and the gazes
and the beautiful faces
broken in pieces
by the very fury
from which they were created.
And all that will remain:
the sadness of my mind
at not knowing why
I never unsertood them,
their reason for being with me
there.
The sea is vast and sullen.
All that has shape is by the water taken
and in due time only the water rises
to the sun, and nothing is remembered.
A silence such as Noah perceived
after the darkness broke
spirals through the newborn light
and everything outside the corpse
is glad with life.
And clings to breathing.
And to the nearness of another form:
a crazy wish for infinity.
But I am not infinite
and the vast sea can take me,
and the wet earth can have me,
the desert can burn me and swallow me.
I have lost my respect for the might of Death.
The hot wind can paly flute
in the holes of my maggot- cleansed dead bones.

el salto

Como quien desde alta atalaya
mira hacia el vasto mar, escucha su rugido
y siente el embíte del viento
que de su seno turbio se levanta
y de súbito comprende
qué es la libertad
y no tiene miedo,
y se deja caer
y unos instántes
vuela,
y otro instante despúes
ha pagado su ansia
de flotar en el aire
con su vida.

Allá en el mareante y ruidoso torbellino
de los rompientes, su cuerpo sin alma ya,
maltrecho, el cadáver sanguinoliento
de un raro pez brillando
palidamente entre los negros farallones,
pleno de sal, ahíto de liquido frío,
el mar hace por hundirle
y él con la sorpresa de un ahogado
que reconoce continuar con el deseo
de los ojos abiertos,
ha oído los gritos
de alguien que le descubre,
horrorizado, desde la arena de la playa cercana.

rumor

Entiendo, pero con sentido
no del cuerpo,
lo que intímas, mezclándo
tu vocecilla al aire
en la hojarasca de oro
del otoñal bosque nuestro .
Nadie la oye,
pero yo la entiendo:
es un sonido músical,
de cristal tintineando lento.
No con carne o memoria
escucho ni recuerdo.
Pero recuerdo como escuché algo
con sentido que hiere, más adentro.
Crée,si precisas, que el fragor de en torno,
la rabia que crépita y rasga el pecho,
es todo lo que hay. Aún verás luego
que de tu ausencia viene llena el agua
lpialazúli, y el medroso oro
de los juncos inquietos
vera el agua tardía.
Yo nada que hacer tengo, pues que nada es verdad
sino que escucho
tu allegarte en la luz,inevitable:
el nebuloso avance de tu aliento.
Criatura mága, apenas a éste lado
de la invisible linea que separa
sueño y vida, la vida ya sin cuerpo.
Ven.

Pensé que sería exacto

librarte del ensueño de tus ojos

que no te dejan ver, y de mis manos

te arrojé al viento, sobre el mar salobre

y tus ojos se unieron a las ondas,

de golpe, y se expandieron

espumosos, saltando, como niños,

a un horizonte azul, risueño, incierto...

_______

I thought it might be exact

to let you out of the revery

of your eyes

which do not let you see:

and I threw you from my hands

to the wind flying over the water

where they met with the waves

suddenly, expanding, foaming,

jumping like children

into an uncertain, smiling, and blue horizon.