Saturday, September 26, 2009

Aurelio Arturo


CLIMATE
.
This green poem, leaf by leaf,
is rocked by the fertile, southwest wind;
this poem is a country that dreams,
a cloud of light and a breeze of green leaves.
.
Falls of water, stones, clouds, leaves
and an agile breath in everything, they are the song.
There were palms, palms and the breeze
and a light like swords through the atmosphere.
.
The loyal wind that rocks my poem,
the loyal wind that the song impels,
rocked the leaves, rocked the clouds, happily
rocking white clouds and green leaves.
.
I am the voice that gave songs to the wind
pure songs west of my clouds; my heart in every palm,
a broken date tree, united the multiple horizons.
And in my country herding clouds,
.
I put my heart in the south, and to the north
like two rapacious birds, my eyes
pursued the flock of the horizons.
life is beautiful, a hard hand, shy fingers
.
as they create the fragile vase
of your song, fill it with your joy or with
the hidden honeys of your crying.
This green poem, leaf by leafs rocked by a fertile wind,
.
a slender wind that loved the grass and skies of the south,
this poem is the country of the wind.
Under a sky of swords, dark earth,
green trees, green gibberish of the small leaves
.
and the tardy wind moves the leaves and the days.
Let the wind dance and let the green distances
call me with secret, hidden rustles: a docile woman,
her breast filled with honey, she loved under the
palms of my songs
.
Colombia

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