It was an imprisoned kiss in love
with a hand of snow that had
the appearance of a listless iris
and the heartbeat of a bird in agony.
And it happened that one day,
that soft hand pale as a candle,
languid as a lily, throbing as a bird,
got so close to the prison of the kiss,
that the poor prisoner could not hold back
and escaped; but, with a fickle turn,
the hand fled to the far end of the world,
and the kiss, which flew after the hand,
breaking the air, became a sigh.
Luis G. Urbina (1868 - 1934) Mexico
Translated by José Wan Díaz
Source: All Poetry
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.