BACK TO THE SOUTH
back to the canals-mirrors
of lurking volcanoes
I breathe the noisy ocean
I see its sounds in this seismic haze
as I sail them in silence
April's full moon inflates the tide
the islands drift further and further apart
the sea nights
shimmer and shimmer
And in the tumult of the skin
anxious
wolfish
lonely
for a few days
still
death has wanted to embrace me
tender
but total
And I have not let myself
and
I fled
from her soft scent of damp earth
I avoided his wise tale
of life
ephemeral
Because I still prefer my ignorance
because I don't want to eat her fruit
again
I did it thousands of years ago
and tied myself
to it
Now
I still have time
tied to my garden
I still live
silent among the departed
and present among you
I am still surprised
to see the moon
cradled by the sea tide
and by the swift waters
of these Andean rivers
I still laugh at myself
because
when I stop doing it
I know that my skinny companion
will cut my throat
with the edge
of my serious
shadow.
Igor Parra
