La cultura es cosa de tiempo, paciencia, lentitud.
En este terreno se estrellan las velocidades modernas.

En torno al lenguaje (1984)

Rafael Cadenas

IF the poem isn’t born, but your life is real,
you are its embodiment.
You dwell
in its invulnerable shadow.
It goes with you,
an unfinished diamond.

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WHARF of huge flames.

Ships to the sun,
drum music,
scattered salts,
naked children,
sailors unloading plantains.
City with tree’s heart, quivering
damps, reeds dancing.
The light strikes beggars,
divides the world into two memories.
My forehead sinks in midday’s basket.
A mirror copies the desire that soars to the beleaguered firmament.
I’m pulse, smile, worship.

español
[t] al inglés por Rowena Hill
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