ORESTES
Two different pulls correspond to each of our two legs,
one distances itself more and more from the other
with wide strides to the point of dismemberment; and
the head is a knot that holds together the divided body
while, I believe, legs are made to move one at a time,
in the same rhythm, to the same direction, down to
the plain, next to a bunch of grapes, up to the far away
rosy horizon, transferring our body in one piece — or
were we perhaps made for that great, unearthly stride
over the horrible precipice, over the graves and ours?
I don’t know.
Yet, beyond these layers of turmoil and fear, I guess
that the endless silence spreads — a justice, a self-existent
balance that includes us into the order of the seeds and
the stars. Did you notice? Around noon on our way here,
the shadow of a cloud crawled over the plain and covered
the wheat-fields, the grapevines, the olive groves, horses,
birds, leaves — a diaphanous sketch from the distant
landscape of immenseness, here on the ground. And
the farmer who was walking at the edge of the field seemed
to be holding, under his left arm, the whole shadow
of the cloud like a huge shroud; as graceful and simple
shadow as his own skin.
Libros Libertad 