She was as beauteous as the shadow of an idea, –
her back skin to a baby’s smell was so anear,
the smell of newly cracked stone
the smell of screams in some language long forlorn.
Just like the breath, no weight did she possess.
While laughing and weeping with large tears
To be as salty as the salt there were no fears,
the way it was worshipped at banquets by barbarians.
She was as beauteous as the shadow of a thought.
Among the waters, she solely stood there for the world.
English version by Gabriela PACHIA