To María - Pastora Alomía de Guerrero

Are you leaving for the countryside, my dear friend!
What gift can I offer you upon your departure…?
Only a sad and tender farewell
Is all my love can give you, sweet María!

Definitions - Sara Vanégas Coveña

Memory is a bird
migrating
between my heart and the void

Failed Copy? - Humberto Vinueza

The intelligent machine

—whose origin, cybernetic of no, is arcane by now—

Living with the rain 1 - Yana Lucila Lema

Morning star comes by

and the hummingbirds fly around

My City - Medardo Ángel Silva

        Strong waters and oil paintings of

        the city of Santiago de Guayaquil

Lisis - Dina Bellrham

i’d like you to feel
the pain of the branches,
the hunger of the train as it passes,
the cry of the girl
when the dolls are raped

To my beloved: With my soul in my lips - Medardo Ángel Silva

When you imagine our impassioned love’s flame
inside your chest to be extinguished,
the day you’re without me, my life will be torn from me
only because of you is my life beloved.

History - Antonio Preciado Bedoya

Honey flowed everywhere; but that day
they gave it to me
with a rifle

a passing glimpse of the first of may, storypoem - Hipólito Alvarado

this is the morning filled with little flags
birds
              children
people at the fiesta in the park

You Leave with Something of Mine - Medardo Ángel Silva

You leave with something of mine the afternoons you go away…
The pain of loving is the pain of living
and the drizzle in an ancient passageway
invades me with the infinite desire to sob.

Like Red-Hot Lava - Maria Clara Sharupi Jua

The sun travelled from the East¹
on its wings of wind
the seeds sprout
becoming words
to light up this day
my beloved

The Weathercock of the Cathedral at Quito - Jorge Carrera Andrade

The cock on the weathervane
Cannot flap his wings
Even though today is a feast.