Close friend of dreams, Ulysses,
Returned to his fog-bound destiny,
A homecoming from foreign countries,
Back to his own. A salty memory.
His heart, a tiny boat on the ocean,
Sailed the vast sea of forgetfulness,
Caulking of love's diked promotion,
A thirst, a magnet, no less.
A compass needle, wavering, unsteady,
'Midst chimeras' and Sirens' haunting call,
His flesh and soul, foreign already.
His wife awaited, a legendary thrall,
Now happy in myth, but in life not at all,
For though Ulysses returned, there was no landfall.
Miguel Ángel Asturias (1899 - 1974) Guatamala
Translated by Bruce Levitan (using Musely translate)
Source: Poeticous
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