miércoles, febrero 14, 2007

Carlos Barbarito. Everyone with his language, his folding seat... (Translated by Brian Cole)

Everyone with his language, his folding seat,
his watch stopped at some time
before the storm, his favourite fruit,
his way of loving and of closing the door.
And each one with his nakedness,
personal, non-transferable. And
a certain bitter freedom,
a certain and sweet slavery,
a place in the endless procession
that crosses the waters
to reach a hypothetical terra firma.