domingo, 5 de mayo de 2013




Sing to me beautiful Circe

Now that Penelope has died;

Sing of the secret routes that you protect

The uncertainty of knowing I am a warrior between your thighs.
Sing in my ear the song you used to sing to bewitch me

In which
I was blind to the verdure of many skies

The close walk in my own Labyrinth.


Witch od death,
Of the woods,  

Beautiful nymph of the river
Ciphered clue of your breast

Your wilted petal
Over the outpouring glass of my bifurcated body.

Awaken from the trips' heavy dreams

Penelope has left also for the night

And I stand alone like a butcher in mid tree,

Sad like a worm     going around the fruit.


Translation:  Luis Rafael Gálvez