L U C Í A E S T R A D A
__________________________________________________________FOUR POEMS
Translated by Jason Stumpf
Fugue
To attack, to slip, to sink, to surge, to leave the poem, to enter it again, to close a door, to open a window, to lower one step, two, to rise again, to stay outside, to take shelter when needed, to close my eyes, to open my hands, to reconstruct in an instant the mystery and take cover in its cosmic wing; to swear in emptiness, to name solitude, to undress boredom, to grab shade, to surround light, to pacify silence, the word, to recreate night, to recover the target, to offend the dream, to continue the watch, to maintain the fire, to redeem dementia, to renew time, to wish for memory, to accept forgetfulness, to command love, to assume life and celebrate it as a pious act, to consider death and to await it as the sole heiress of my body and its seasons, to be aware, to close my hands, to leave, to foresee vertigo, to experience nausea, to purify myself, to reconnect under the purple language of day, to salute the foreigner in the wilderness and to rectify, one by one, the number of his bones.
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