A DOG IN THE NIGHT (excerpt)
People remembered that they had forgotten something,
something very deep and decisive, they didn’t remember what;
they searched in their invisible shadow that slid on the ground
in the sky, in time. What was it? Perhaps this? Should they
remember that they simply forgot something? Even this
was a recess. It’d make them stop. They wouldn’t search.
Forests, frozen rivers and big ships were reflected in
the yellow glass of the moon; images of inverted streets
were reflected, women with their shopping, the washed
sidewalks, the first lighted windows, the green tables
of the country restaurants, the silent men who sauntered
in their tiredness, the passing musician with his violin,
and an orphan, stray dog with absent-minded eyes.
Beautiful inverted images, crawling over the moon
exactly over the heads of people, next
to the colourful advertisement of the new store.
Libros Libertad 