The Genesis of the Poem

Its outer layer convulses, perpetually remoulding itself,

it laughs and weeps in the same breath,

it imprints itself upon the sky and the underneath trees,

it suffers to be watched until itself

becomes the eyesight,

it feigns death only for the wounded birds

and the timeworn souls, foredoomed to perish,

to peacefully breathe their latest

witticism, above it.

It turns into a propeller, revolving maddeningly,

pushing away towards its own borders

everything that is unvanquished in himself, harder,

more solemn,

or, when transparent, it suffers to be pervaded,

fathomed in its miraculous depths,

where its most enchanting words,

like some platinum fish,

exquisitely move their tails.

Dear me ! Out of the blue, everything vanishes ;

all that stays is the papyrus, the paper, the stone,

the soldier obeys the sergeant’s order,

the stiff hand obeys the rigid soul.

English version by Gabriela PACHIA