Here am I-breathing,
Working,
Living
And Writing my poetry
...
Sometimes I'll come when you're asleep,
An unexpected visitor.
Don't leave me outside in the street.
Don't bar the door!
...
Do you remember
the sea, the engines,
and the holds full of wet dark
and that great longing for the Philippines
...
Spring of mine, O spring of mine so white,
as yet unlived, as yet unfeasted,
alone in visions vague yet dreamt of,
how low above the poplars do you skim,
...
What were you to me?
Nothing.
A land forgotten and remote,
a land of knights and high plateaux.
...
We argued,
a lady and I
on the topic:
'The man of our time'.
...
The fight is hard and pitiless
The fight is epic, as they say.
I fell. Another takes my place -
Why single out a name?
...
Mother,
Fernandéz is killed!
Fernandéz
is dead and buried
...
My country's mine; blue and clear
above it shines the sky so bright;
at dusk gleam starry chandeliers
quenched at dawn by white daylight.
...