Sobre el cielo
de las margaritas ando.
Yo imagino esta tarde
...
The fat lady came out first,
tearing out roots and moistening drumskins.
The fat lady
who turns dying octopuses inside out.
...
Noche de cuatro lunas
y un solo árbol,
con una sola sombra
y un solo pájaro.
...
Voces de muerte sonaron
cerca del Guadalquivir.
Voces antiguas que cercan
voz de clavel varonil.
...
Green, how I want you green.
Green wind. Green branches.
The ship out on the sea
and the horse on the mountain.
...
So I took her to the river
believing she was a maiden,
but she already had a husband.
It was on St. James night
...
Playing her parchment moon
Precosia comes
along a watery path of laurels and crystal lights.
The starless silence, fleeing
...
Mi sombra va silenciosa
por el agua de la acecia.
...
The litle boy was looking for his voice.
(The King of the crickets had it.)
In a drop of water
the little boy was looking for his voice.
...