Friday, 23 April 2021

Miles Away - Homero Pumarol

A black trumpet flies
through the walls
of an empty building.

It goes faster and farther
than this poor concrete night
with all its broken windows and lightbulbs.

The dust on the ground perks up,
letters jump from the old books
and now every object speaks of the sweet
and golden smell of the marvellous sound.

What will we do when it stops?
the nail asks the wall.
I don’t know, I don’t know, says the hammer.

What will we do when it stops?
the bottles repeat, I don’t know,
filling the stairways and halls.

Homero Pumarol (born 1971) Dominican Republic
Translated by Hoyt Rogers

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