In my humble amazement, I write these poor words,
which pretend to be a poem,
to a marvel of creation Divine.
Dear reader, forgive me for being a simpleton.
Hyaline glare that timid approaches, From Orient breath demarcating Conjugating with Bandodeón it broaches In this order first appearing, Order that without The step would not follow the fleeing Step that with contrapuntal harmony Drives away the shroud’s thicket, Master of prisoner Morpheus And prey to her own prisoner. The shroud, sensual night captivating, For hasty pleasure longing Thus the error prone perfumer, Grossly thicket dominating. The stars, mouths scintillating, Believing them far away, the night Their Copernic forms she deforming She imbibing, she fooling How thus, line, the night blinds? How thus, line, the night sustains? Dehydrated by wine The cubs laid ignoring The lions no longer roaring All in their beds, pleased devoting. Thus the night, lorded over everything Thus the night, made everyone sleeping The stars of their science deformed Treacherous astrology becoming. Yesterday, that of Caro’s sunset I remembered, Not having forgotten The dying bull vermillion, Of sentiment feline, With distant sight observing And with the same profound maroon eyes inside looking. Yesterday I remembered the silence That the sunset was pronouncing Today, the silicium presents himself, Precise clarity awaited Measured by universe pulsating Happiness — of the forms, Happiness! Of the incipient thicket, much sadness Faithfully announce, line, since night ignores For being obscure, the night Alluring and Sensual itself presumes And imprisoned the stars she pretenses Thus the glare disrupts with his diaphanous form A thousand colors he announces A thousand ageless he presents Line, clear milonguero flare, Astute pilgrim companion. I dedicate myself Now, to plow under and about renewed horizon If not now, when? Since once awoken Of profit is “Because earlier risers God assists!” To see how he goes disarming, First the glare, with compass portent The gross perfumer incliner: Oh! ¡Prism! – fence Polyphonic Song! – boring tone Jubilant birds! – cubs sedated Everything was gathering Everything was perceiving The triumphant colors forth were coming and the compass ordering the juvenile flowers attracting dressing it all a thousand forms becoming in this refreshing and tranquil Shinning morning.
Poem composed by David Ramírez
May 6, ANNO A MUNDO CREATO VDCCLXIII
Dedicated to my teacher José Faur