The Jellyfish
There came a lazily waving bride,
a bodiless silk dress,
and the solitary swimmer unexpectantly
floundered about in her unseeable,
flouncing flesh
He perceives the world as before,
he cleaves through the waves alike
on the shore his sweetheart is still waving at him
yet the sky has grown burdensome
it’s but the curtly
shrieking bird
that saw him suddenly plunge
into the transparent hollow
When did you break open into myself
bell of weeping egg white
flouncing cave
of the eternal swimmers ?
Luminous umbrella
bodiless silk dress
inexistent bride
tell me, where was the silken veil
that thrust me into your invisible flesh
torn to shreds ?
I am the same I was a second ago.
The sea splashes me as before
it’s but the white bird that knows
there’s no turning back for me…
The Drought Admiral
I am the one and only
and there is no other
besides me.
I shall not stay widowed.
You are my bridegroom.
I am the thread spewed out
by you, my
silkworm ;
I am your cosmic
shroud
that you weave,
o, magical grandson
of a butterfly ;
I am your anchor into the primordial,
my twin,
interminable, younger
than myself ;
I am the greyish
woodpecker
that drills
the white trunk
of hazard ;
I am the whip
that drives you on
and embraces you
and arrests you from running away.
Why do you turn you face from me,
leopard
born of a woman,
what blizzard diverts
your gaze
away from me ?
My heart is hurt
and has withered
like a flower,
my bones part
with my flesh,
I cry out
for you
in the four winds
like the rattling snake in the sand,
like the whipping viper
of the pharaohs,
blind, deceptive,
senseless,
cross-eyed,
with a blotched diadem
with neck rings
and shy looks !
Send for the wavering
Eagle,
whose stretching shadow
enshrouds my days,
with the tide’s ckeek
and leopard blood,
the remote one, the ungrateful
serpent,
the one that dwells
the woman-bred desert
under the noise
of my heart,
the golden furious,
in whose right eye
a thousand years
fly like the smoke,
like yesterday
that died away.
Send for the inquiring
Butterfly,
send for the butterfly-souled
warrior,
the snow hero
who fears me
the one crying for help
from my palm,
the one whose eyes open
like the jelly fish,
spacious for a second
till they vanish
away.
Send for
the egg of fright,
my lair, my restlessness,
the God I trust,
my mud,
my honey,
my scorpion,
the dust I am predestined to love,
indeed, to love his
perishable dust.
Send for
the drought admiral,
send for the fire,
devouring me
long before the moment
of its birth,
leaning against me
as far back as the womb
of the first mother,
even from Eve’s thighs
he is my groom my groom.
English version by Gabriela PACHIA