FIRST POEMS TO A SCHOOL Poem by Ramón Cote Baraibar

V

It seems impossible to admit
that in the place of pain you could some day
observe all of its beauty.
There where you convinced yourself
that uselessness was your sole
recognisable gift, where you situated
forever the diminished
expanse of your childhood,
your misplaced marvel.
You think
that so much conviction in pain
- which you had taken
as the most accurate summary of those days -
was not necessary nor so true
and that the school, put on sale,
and besieged by the shapeless outskirts
begins to endure what you already have endured.
But in spite of everything,
don't you dare suddenly betray
your dearest and longest abandonment.
It is strange, the acacia in the patio died
and a flowered bougainvillea keeps vigil over it.