Strong waters and oil paintings of
the city of Santiago de Guayaquil
My city is surrounded by hills
above the hills an arched moon shines
on patios dogs howl sadly at
the wandering spirit of a yellow goddess.
Its streets have their provincial reminiscences
childlike joy of its wooden houses,
familiar sweetness of its simple mornings
the perpetual lie of its fleeting spring.
Oh, city of Santiago, my tiny city
That shelters my melancholy, my joy
And the universal lyric I carry in my chest.
Image of my soul so often vanquished that
Springs forth more beautiful, each time soaring
With a purer rhythm and a new ideal.
Medardo Ángel Silva (1898 - 1919) Ecuador
Translated by Vincent Lee
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