The Ball of Yarn

 

The most far-reaching road that can dwell

within the utterly pygmaean hillock ;

in fact the hill is nothing else

than a road

within

the road.

 

Oh, what soreness,

what twists and twirls,

what wrappings and windings

on the road that begets a hill !

 

How you bury yourself, roaming road,

in your own routes,

how you wrap yourself, roaming road,

in the road’s swaddling band…

 

How you grow, mounting hillock,

like an inexistent baby

from the road’s spirals… !

 

You, who are

who are nothing else

than a road

around a road.

 

 

The Gate of Paradox

 

Fire or water ?

 

Like a flowing book

like a door of water

like a thirsty sea

like a liquid fire hook

like some milk of red-hot coal

like a pyre sobbing in the mirror

like an earthquake of water

like a molten clock

fire fire

water water

 

hour stone

tinder hell

locum refrigerii a spot of verdure

whence all the woe and sigh

have faded away

 

“You cannot swim

twice

in the same

earthquake… !”

Now and for evermore flame

and throughout the eternal

flow of flowing.

Full stop.

 

                                            English version by Gabriela PACHIA