My mirror, a current in the nights,
Becomes a brook and leaves my room.
My mirror, deeper than the orb
Where all the swans have drowned.
It is a green pool in the rampart
Your fixed nakedness sleeps in its midst.
Over its waves, beneath somnambulant skies,
My dreams draw away as ships.
Standing astern you will always see me singing.
A secret rose is swelling in my breast
And a drunken nightingale flutters on my finger.
Vicente Huidobro (1893 - 1948) Chile
Translated by Jorge García-Gómez
Source: About What (from: Vincente Huidobro, The Poet is a Little God: Creationist Verse, Trans.by Jorge García-Gómez, Xenos Books, 1996)
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