Juan Garrido Salgado: Poem of Night and the Wind | Poema de la Noche y el Viento
The word is wind, silence is wind, night is wind.
Clouds that imprison the moon.
Light that is no longer light but darkness of clouds and sky.
In the distance the sleeping mountains wake with the leaves of the wind.
Mike James: Two Poems
Shopkeepers whistle while they empty
Their shelves. And the darkness goes out beyond
The store front arrangements and the small,
Blue houses and the empty fields never fully lit.
Jorge Guillén: Death in the Distance
What’s urgent is the ripe
Fruit. The hand already peels it.
José Emilio Pacheco: High Treason
I’d die
for ten places,
a few folks,
ports, forests, deserts, forts,
a broken city, gray, monstrous
Michael Simms: Minneapolis
He died in Minneapolis on an ordinary day,
A day we’ll all remember.
We can’t turn away. It was a day
Like this one, a Monday, in Spring.
Pablo Neruda: The Riddles
You have asked me what the crustacean spins between its limbs of gold
and I answer: the sea knows it.
Michael Simms: Black Brick, Yellow Brick
I will die in Pittsburgh on a beautiful day…
Eva-Maria Simms, Michael Simms: Translating Rilke
Every thing is protected
by a grace ready for flight,
every stone and flower
every child at night.
César Vallejo: Black Stone on a White Stone
I will die in Paris on a rainy day,
a day I can already remember.
