Romiosini
…and high up there turning on its spit
the galaxy is fragrant
by the burnt-up lard garlic and pepper
Ah what silky stars the pine needles
will need still to embroider
over the scorched fence wall of summer
“this will also pass”
how a mother will still squeeze her heart over
her seven butchered brave lads
until light finds its path to the uphill
of her soul
This bone sticking out of the earth
measures the earth yard by yard and
the lute’s strings
and the lute from dusk to dawn with
the violin
grief by grief they sing it to rosemary
and the pines
and the ropes ring like lyres in the boats
and the seaman drinks bitter sea in
Odysseus’ wine cup
Ah who then will fence the entrance and which
sword will sever the courage
and which key will lock up your heart that with
its two door-leaves wide open
stares at God’s star-drenched orchards?
Libros Libertad 