SILENT CINEMA
Not that it lacks sound
, is that it has
silence.
***** THE AWAKENING
Waking
you become that which it was
the name by which we are called, on waking
one becomes
insurance
lossless
to self
the
one
recalling what they forget the tiger
dove into her sweet awakening.
*****
LOVES CASTA SURFACE AND SAD
know who you are. Pindar
The depth is what is says. Lilac
Beach, the dress that the poor and happy holiday
than now exists.
know who you are, that is to be the one you were,
to yesterday, not tomorrow, insists time,
know anything knowing that when you're
has to be what you wanted.
God does not look you know you're
-light is an illusion, madness,
but also the image of you that prefer
what you love becomes valid, and since
so, only seeks
your mask is true.
*****
AND I KNOW YOU ARE BUT DARKNESS
And yet I know they are dark
house lights that I hold, I grabbed
a screen, a deep iron
and yet I know they are darkness.
Because I've seen a beach that is not forgotten,
the hand of my mother, inside a car,
understand the meanings of the night,
because I've seen a beach will not forget.
When suddenly the world goes that accent
different foreign intimacy becomes surprised, not omitting
is hidden, let alone reveal,
understand that is the heart of those days
extinct spotted tremor coming
the reason of my time on earth.
*****
AY, CUBA, CUBA ...
Ay Cuba, Cuba, that little music now, from the heart, I know a secret that was mine and not yours, you who you are because you do not 've ever met, listen, do not leave behind those strange as a provincial actor excited by a step that dazzles with costumes worn in theater, remember the blue cover hilly back away, remember the "rocked" like a cradle on the leaf, and "go and see" in and out like a sea the smell of jasmine at night, remember your neat dress "evening": do not go after those strange, when you open your eyes and you have dried the soul and haggard face I loved. Upright, modest, brave, alas, will not be our only daughter's mother never, Cuba, Cuba, crazy me, gentle madness? Alas, I could protect your own sounds cantándote knowledge "color of arcane", could protect your own slow speed your sling! I could tell you: do not upload to that high mountain that has to foot all the goods of the earth glittered unlucky, you have nothing knew, secretly and alone as high palm desert flower. Sounds that could protect me and now I hear rocked as if it lacked a little longer for you to go to die. Escape, escape, ball fish, hummingbirds, fly away, all possessions, all certainties, all denials to all doubts, escapes, cefirillo, the deep blue black cloud. Blue is your poise and your secret blue. Escapes, inmate like look, air and space yours! 0 jumps, crazy, taunt, "My goodness," are soft, get lost, rush, bee, honey, mockingbird, Jilguerillas, to Savannah mottled crimson, the "verdeclaro." Not touch you, glorious body home. Because you were always "Eden" of the first looks I saw you, "Eden" of the trova humble beginning and end, paradise: nothing but grabbed it, nothing but this understanding, distance, nothing but that this was not just another something you could not understand well. Dreaming modest, do not touch. I know you leave and come back, swing! MECES you and me MECES, cadence! You go "away, but not very far", here in there. I know that your palms are not paid homage to the Son, but its Escape! So I ask now: recognizes ! Returns, Ave, with the Salutation!
*****
1
When Time is gone, one returns
as the childhood home, some
days, faces, events that were able to tour the
path of our heart. Let us return
weary steps
ever simpler and slower,
the same day, the same friend, same old sun
. And we have the wonder
blind to the other, our eyes clear, wherein the memory
stopped
as a painter, a hand gesture,
a smile, a short way of greeting. Then slowly
the world becomes impenetrable,
eyes do not understand, the hand and does not touch the food
unnameable, the real.
2
One goes up the stairs of his house lost
(
are no longer any place), someone called in a voice
dear, familiar .
But you do not need to answer.
The single voice calling, enough
as if nothing could harm you in the hallway
immense.
rain can not get wet, never tires
surround a favorite day.
One knocks on the door of the house that was
might hold in our hands
mortals, like a shy comfort.
3
who used to visit, which was
most beloved of all, soft
the room becomes simple, everyday
more real and more mild and smoke.
When knocked on the door?
can not remember. I was there it was!
and will never go away or you can go.
No memory brings
words of farewell.
can only become the door of a noise, a call that world
delete, ignore and defeat.
4
What
whimsical and exquisite hand-plotted, chose this gesture enduring
him out of nothing, like a god to shine forever
other joy? Do you participate
give you the eternal
you left hand full
humble treasure? In its neglect
happy teenager "spilled the oil? What mystery was
yours, pure instant, silent
chosen day?
For they are becoming blurred
and you stay as a fixed star with higher power
eternity.
5
And when the weather becomes unclean face,
a life we \u200b\u200blove in their time
some to give, for ever more real than your present truth
, we will see
when that fire around him,
when the weather was just a fragment of a body
more splendid, invisible.
Every man is the guardian of something lost.
Something that only he has only seen. And that buried
world, that mystery
of our youth, we defend
as a great hope.
6
And reality is what has not been! All
appearance is a mysterious apparition. In the autumn branch
not just the result but in the evening
promise as long as its intact form
offered a moment to our happiness. For every full
is the promise
splendid death, and visitation of the angel
in the face of the youngest
we all knew it would go before
smile I chose the night.
In that vague delirium
room and brought the blue portal
people from your childhood, your silence you opened
a distant mysterious dinner.
fell the thick veil of
eyes and waited all night to open.
broke bread with a blanket of snow.
With the shoulders of the pastor ran away, turning his face
when it was night, everything had changed
yet
in quiet sleep sheep farm.
8
Were not burning
your heart when he told us the Scriptures?
(The pilgrims Enmaús)
your heart when he told us the Scriptures?
(The pilgrims Enmaús)
is coming from far away,
some people will never be seen. Guest
the next night,
touches the latch of the door and the threshold
all sparkles like snow. Guest
is someone sitting at our table
only for one night, and no hits
but already heard what his mouth said. Guest
is that rejoices in his face and shining
our bread with your hands, and fail to remember
his name. Guest
is to be based at dawn.
9
There is a wind rose Where the WAS.
Walter de la Mere
Walter de la Mere
more fragrant than all the summers! Why
has to be that we become
over time, more real, less ephemeral than the one who went
your lights pale? Why
desert dust, the agony with weapons
beautiful, there are only
the glow of victory? Far
is all due. In another case
space beyond the face that sunk
dying glory and blinded
with the wind carrying the flags
splendid fleeing. Fiera is any victory.
10
Friend, I most loved,
come to light of dawn.
come to light of dawn.
strange tenderness, like a sun, blurred!
music as possible around your face,
time as a thief took only the plunder, our faithful tenderness
met you in
as the fire burned, not the livid
ash finishes. And where others see
wrinkle of scorn, I played
teen costume, child
snow almost at hand, it was only
our privilege to watch you
with the face of your resurrection.
11
Since I Have walk'd with you-through shady lanes ...
Keats
Keats
that continuous talk
interrupting each other friend, in the joyful
dialogue to the door of the house ,
and dinner served? Who has not heard the night
footprints in the sidewalk
become more opaque as they cross the grass
brings us to the friend, the good yet? Who
, late, does not cost much and whispers goodbye
generous desires, inexplicable
such, under the cold stars?
12
... laetificat Juventutem meam qui ...
can follow! But man is eternal. Wild
privilege of death, our only inheritance
while the sun pours its light
survivor on that face
proud to be fleeting, with canned cycles, and that green
, eternal! It was going
the glory of the most beloved faces,
and tornadoes, as blind wave, while Incorruptible body
waited and we could not hold, crying in the loss
light, voices,
believed and what I find is heading. Oh
real, the world
mystery of our youth, that awaits us!
We have been promised joy.
We are promised to return.
returns are what you, oh always knew.
But not like now, my friend.
*****
A FACE, A RUMOR, A TRUE MOMENT ...
A face, a rumor
instantly deafen a faithful suddenly what looked
and then live
first time that has already been distant.
is like a slow and lazy lover who is always late
time, my
and soft golden rain or loathing
sum dazzling purple night.
And I return a quiet house,
sweetest couples dancing, artisans fingers
abyss.
And blind me rapt gaze at the magical light
question of a sound that is different and that is the same.
*****
IF MY POEMS
If my poems were lost
all the small truth that shines
they stay the same in a gray stone on the water
or on a green grass.
If all were lost poems
naming would fire endless
clean of all dross, and the eternal poetry
roaring back again, with the dawns.
*****
NO, NO, MEMORY ...
No, no,
memory of the last day you come on this sun and sod saint.
not I come to rely on both
refuge of what grows well in dismissal.
But I remained your weather and my stubbornness
fall, returning again to rise up, not worn braids
my dust and boosting your light breaks.
sick of me I'm not that much
glut does not support my little light up. More
me yesterday was your day: find no sorrow.
Back to the past is my prayer ...
But what about the smell of life?
Hold your promise, not the fire.
*****
THE HEROES OF THE RESISTANCE
( In the plain, in cities:
to all who were martyred.)
to all who were martyred.)
for justice, the buried alive
those who gouged eyes or testicles were ripped
, the
threatened in the most vulnerable, women or children, do not you'll
the ephemeral glory of a name is repeated
vaguely patriotic commemorations,
a day that served to go to beaches or the student
meet with his girlfriend,
you do not put his portrait on the door of the workshop or
you shall call his name to a school, you do not
these awards will give them beautiful, but certainly
definitely insufficient,
a glorious banner that moves crowds
new heroics necessary
as this, to be both, it is still so little
to the irrepressible demand of the heart,
and still would be indebted to them for justice
of love must be another,
the you want the wife to the husband,
the friend for friend,
brother for sister,
mother to child, you'll
you all able to satisfy the highest requirement
and nothing less than this,
When will the infinite sweetness unrequited love
disappointed a thousand times, you'd expect
vaguely in the face of every teenager,
the time of burning love, time
which he said the poet of war amputees
they will return home healthy, comfort
be profound, revealing surprising
how comforted we had not been before,
the time to fill the void of content and emptiness of unfulfilled
, when the said
always waited for the heart,
because at the time of the agony
could not be comforted enough to know that would not be in vain, and all these phrases
example that does not die
and that the hero is not dead,
because the hero dies and dies
always alone because he had to have a moment of utter loneliness, agony
agony of body and spirit, which
a moment had nothing to offer
history or parties, the sacro instant
why have you forsaken me,
but that moment, my God, you will not forget, Love not
forget the love, the Beloved
the beloved, one to one
you saved your steps, do not hide your face, you will do
lay next to your chest the day of return,
death of heroes you do not
the commemoration with a day of mourning
but eternity of joy, I'll
not bliss that offers pure
and they would see God in its purity,
or the peaceful
who promised they would possess the land,
or the weeping of those who said they would be comforted
,
but the highest bliss, the last
the promise, but blessed
those who suffered for justice
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
