MAN

  

MAN

 

Mashiaj is my Shepherd

 

There's nothing I need

The fruit will overflow, the leaves, the weathercocks.

The spheres that transit the ethers

 

The poem that grows quietly

In the permissive and forbidden tree of the night

Mashiaj is my Shepherd

 

There's nothing I need

I shall harvest from all things around the world

The songs, the ravines, the shores

 

I will rest my back

 

On the stones of the desert

I will contemplate the obstreperous flight of the rivers

 

Over the mantle chiaro-oscuro of the valleys

 

In times when life becomes scarce

And Satan will rise like a hymn from the card-deck

 

Mashiaj shall provide the freshness

 

I will walk naked through the cosmos

 

Like one more star of Infinity 

Like a comet on the luminous mantle of death

 

And fame and defeat will come

 

Like two sisters, daughters of Calliope

 

And I will not fear them

 

Nor will I run away from them

 

Because my breast

 

 Streaming down like water is theirs

 

And theirs is my palate

 

That savors the fall

 

Mashiaj is my Shepherd

There is nothing I need

 

The three days of darkness

Will make me reflect on the shadows

 

The minuscule ants from the desert

 

Will not gnaw one iota  from the air

 

The destruction of the cities

Will not darken the daily blooming

 

Of the rains and the stars

 

And the light will come with its veils and dances

 

Maybe my blindness will be nourished by these songs

 

And my sword, will be nourished by their hair

 

Breaking the chasm toward the Promised Land.

 

 

 

 

 

 Winston Morales Chavarro

English translation: Luis Rafael Gálvez