Mystic Poet
hommage à ravel
shadow of the lake
spread in the room
and under the chair
even under the table
behind the books
and in the dark glances
of the gypsum models
the song of
secret orchestra
of the dead poet
then the woman entered
who I was waiting
for a long time
naked
dressed in white
under the bright moonlight
with loosened hair
and some yellow grass in her eyes
that undulated slowly
like promises
never made
in faraway unfamiliar cities
and in empty
deserted
factories
and I felt like vanishing
like the dead poet
among her long hair
and some flowers
that bloom
at night
and shut
in the morning
and like some dry fish
they hanged
with a string
high up
in the coal storage room
thus, I’ll go
far away
from the people’s buzz
and the noise
of the shooting range
to go far away
among the broken
windows
and to live
forever
on the ceiling
yet always
having
in my eyes
the secret songs
of the dead orchestra
of the poet
Libros Libertad 