The olive speaks in the middle of the camp
opens its charred entrails to the universe
It buries its woody claws
in the womb of the world
drinks the juices of fire
the swell of memory
Its leaves breathe in the midst of smoke
in boiling obstinacy
procures the last drop of the night
Its blossom perfumes -again- the morning
and scares away the stench of the pit
Inside the tent
a woman is in labor pains
Joel Linares Moreno (born 1973) Venezuela
Translator not stated
Source: Kritya
opens its charred entrails to the universe
It buries its woody claws
in the womb of the world
drinks the juices of fire
the swell of memory
Its leaves breathe in the midst of smoke
in boiling obstinacy
procures the last drop of the night
Its blossom perfumes -again- the morning
and scares away the stench of the pit
Inside the tent
a woman is in labor pains
Joel Linares Moreno (born 1973) Venezuela
Translator not stated
Source: Kritya
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