The House of Odes

Writingtheseodesin thisyear nineteenhundred andfifty-five,readying and tuningmy demanding, murmuring lyre,I know who I amand where my song is going.I understandthat the shopper for mythsand mysteriesmay entermy woodand adobehouse of odes,may despisethe utensils,the portraitsof father and mother and countryon the walls,the simplicityof the breadand the saltcellar. Butthat’s how it is in my house of odes.I deposed the … Read more

The Wide Ocean

Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruitof your gifts and destructions, into my hand,I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel,your vigilant spaces of air and darkness,and the power of your white tongue,that shatters and overthrows columns,breaking them down to your proper purity. Not the final breaker, heavy … Read more

The Insect

From your hips down to your feetI want to make a long journey. I am smaller than an insect. Over these hills I pass,hills the colour of oats,crossed with faint tracksthat only I know,scorched centimetres,pale perspectives. Now here is a mountain.I shall never leave this.What a giant growth of moss!And a crater, a roseof moist … Read more

Tie Your Heart At Night To Mine, Love,

Tie your heart at night to mine, love,and both will defeat the darknesslike twin drums beating in the forestagainst the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dreamthat cuts the thread of earthly orbswith the punctuality of a headlong trainthat pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me … Read more


Neither the heart cut by a piece of glass in a wasteland of thorns nor the atrocious waters seen in the corners of certain houses, waters like eyelids and eyes can capture your waist in my hands when my heart lifts its oaks towards your unbreakable thread of snow. Nocturnal sugar, spirit of the crowns, … Read more

The Light Wraps You

The light wraps you in its mortal flame. Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way against the old propellers of the twighlight that revolves around you. Speechless, my friend, alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead and filled with the lives of fire, pure heir of the ruined day. A bough of fruit … Read more

Tonight I Can Write

Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starryand the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines.I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her … Read more

Soneto XVII

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego: te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras, secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma. Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores, y gracias a … Read more

Sonnet XLII: I Hunt For A Sign Of You

I hunt for a sign of you in all the others,In the rapid undulant river of women,Braids, shyly sinking eyes,Light step that slices, sailing through the foam. Suddenly I think I can make out your nails,Oblong, quick, nieces of a cherry:Then it’s your hair that passes by, and I thinkI see your image, a bonfire, … Read more