Miguel Hernandes

‘Your Heart, A Frozen Orange, A Centre’
(V: From ‘El Rayo Que No Cesa’)



Your heart, a frozen orange, a centre,
within, without light, of sweet juniper oil

and a porous appearance of gold: a surface

that promises danger to those who look.



My heart, a feverish pomegranate

of clustered blushes, and opened wax,

which might offer you its tender seeds

with an enamoured obstinacy.



Ay! What an experience of loss

to go to your heart and find a coldness

of irreducible and fearful snow!



Through the outskirts of my weeping

a thirsty handkerchief goes flying,

with the hope of one who might drink there