AMONG THE STONES OF THE EARTH Poem by Fernando Linero

I know nothing about the heavens
I hold up with my clumsy words.
Planted in the earth is my sap
just singing, not waiting for anything.
The longings that rose with me from the sea
glittering like fields of oats,
have defeated time and indolence.
Sometimes a distant image
hardly harmonizes
with the slopes of my song:
my mother standing behind the lemon tree
hanging clothes on the walls of summer
piling up one sadness after another.
Sometimes a dream
the one that finds me with my dead
squatting under the sun
vaguely following the insects buzzing.
Sometimes a peal of laughter already lost
lingers in my hollowness
and with difficulty climbs up
the skirts of my song.
I know nothing about the skies
supporting my clumsy words.
On the stones of the earth is my hearth.