emergency II

he comes out of the rooms in the air

the shape of an idea moves towards the limits

he cries when calculating the weight of things
and articulates chance

we have fought the wind
with hands wet open raised
the wind its colors its painful
so much to discolor

this cork is old but it still rises
it means something new talks about before
a lone turtle that pokes its head out
in the seas of myth

i don’t understand what it says
but i understand that it tells the truth

Translated by Curtis Bauer
“emergency” is from Temperatura voz [Voice Temperature] (Barcelona, Pre-Textos, 2010).

You can read and listen to the poem in the original Spanish here.