from “Angel of Silence”

Englishified by Jared Demick

1.

            I will record its great history,

its agonized panting that crumbles cities.

The sightless days pass, like somnambulists,

like great helixes intoxicated with purposes.

but time sings in a water-drop, and then...

I know that it is still far off like I want it.

            The velocity leaped farther than the hidden horizon of the matters,

its uniform distance

in the trapezes of my scream.

            Don’t cry, I remember, rain, your message,

your great book that I read without opening,

joined to the window in which fall whippings

and that crucify my eyes in their black cicatrices.

            The wind passes to hauling with the sea, smoothing it out,

burst of blue muscles, its gathers its perfumed ashes.

            There I hope for it, alone,

like the useless portraits,

augmenting the shadow-waves,

and, now its song will not go to my window.

5.

            Infinite landscape,

my solitude a desperate flower,

ascends to the highest sound.

            Naked,

my inflamed atmosphere, money that I don’t hand over,

the terrified nights shake

and gather the astros of my eyes like instantaneous

fruits.

            The bloody kiss arrives in the wind-bursts.

Ah, the horizons,

impossible rings.

            To dawn of sonorous ways that intersect,

its name still hits the hard face of silence

            I contain, nevertheless, the words,

the starry leaps of its worlds,

until a day was nailed into my dream

            os-cill-at-ing

like a sword.