HUIDOBRO'S DEATH, DEATH AND RESURRECTION Comments

A year ago I visited the Cathedral of La Paz.
In my life I'd never seen an alterpiece with such a golden façade.

Admiring your image, Lord, by a baroque Aymara carved
I felt my soul as if from a rogue gust enlarged.

First it was like a breath into the depth of a hole
that emptied space and multiplied reality by null.

Then a faint sound like a gnashing of chains,
a cry without weeping, mourning the spreading of pains.

Pulled by a gravitational force my words escaped
and I sensed you like a wave imitating eternity.

Since that moment in my throat a bird's been agonizing.
Yesterday it whistled innocently, today it's barely singing.

At times it flies among my teeth then vanishes.
It's been spotted sipping the water reflected in mirrors.

I feel such a profound exhaustion, Lord,
Not the weight of my body but the weight of the conscience of the world.

Monotonous bloody threads fall from the ceiling
their drops corroding my chest.

Make an angel descend today and with its sword embody me, Lord, with your calm.
Put my anxieties to rest on its silver palm.

I carry inside a longing for perfection like a small infinity.
I was born believing I was God and let loose my first furious cry.

He who lives as I lives not but becomes withered and misshapen,
opressed by an increasingly narrow space.

I am an atheist monk in a miserable cell writing paper psalms, Lord;
he who lives as I dies not; he's emptied, untoward.
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