silent song that was heard by death alone
nailed agonies into the night.
Quiet hieroglyph of the scream
that neither broke the dreams
nor filled the mist with alarm.
Could there be a choked voice more discerning
than a hand of light painting the sky
and preceding the dawn?
The clocks went crazy
and the sun's howl bit the sky
hurtling blood and red clouds.
Painful incandescent claws
pulled out souls from their dream
on wings of hell.
God's fury in flashes!
Innumerable stamping
- fear on the move -
running towards dusk!
Pitchers of dawn broke open,
and Sun's Saint Graal, now spilled,
spread across the sky.
Wind's compass from all sides
flung arrows of blood.
Mercy, Mercy, Lord!
Appease your anger!
Thousand slaughtered colts trailing skywards
their manes against reddened wind!
All the smoke of the world,
all the gas readied for the war rage!
The masks of fear are no longer enough
and hands
no longer meet in the distance!
Who could climb a cloud?
Quivi sospiri, pianti e alti guai
risonavan per l'aere senza stella.
Dante: Inferno. (1944)
Rogelio Sinán, pseudonym of writer Bernardo Domínguez Alba (1902 - 1994) Panama
Translated by Minu Bakhshi and S.P. Ganguly
This is the first of three poems in the cycle "Fire"
Thank you for this enjoyable post
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