Holy Thursday

                for Pablo García Baena

The bodies were still in the sand

at the edge of the water, sweetly 

fugitive, or a little more over here

on the grass, when it turns into

a completely urban shore.

The bodies were still in the sand, 

and the Christs and Virgins passed

over the Roman bridge, vertical,

while below the horizontal ones

stretched their nap until seven.

The April sun fell warm and benevolent.

They shared the petals, the music,

the march, trumpets, the old

kettledrums. The incense

didn’t make distinctions. Signs of glory,

it reached the nudes like something

natural, they didn’t even move

in their principled paganism.

Catholic chaos. The apotheosis.

The juxtaposition. The most perfect

way to know. Some believe, firmly

the contrary, even the incompatible, 

are only synonyms. 

The bodies were still in the sand.

Translated by Curtis Bauer
“Holy Thursday” was published in Eros Is More (Alice James Books, 2014).

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