Poem
Fernando Linero
Belief
One must have a high beliefto follow on the way of the hours
with a black sun swooping implacable.
How to fill something up to the brink
when at the will of the flies
death dances drunkenly
and cold throws out the live coals from the hearth
and the spells disappear
as well as the high grass full of innocence?
One must have a high belief
to fill up something to the brink
when we’re only left with cynicism.
Perhaps the buzz of an insect
in the meager flight of daily life.
© Translation: 2008, Nicolás Suescún
Creencia
Creencia
Se necesita de una alta creenciapara seguir por el camino de las horas
con un sol negro que se abate implacable.
¿Cómo llenar algo hasta los bordes
cuando al arbitrio de las moscas
la muerte ebria danza
y el frío expulsa las brasas del hogar
y desaparecen los hechizos
las altas hierbas colmadas de inocencia?
Se necesita de una alta creencia
para llenar algo hasta los bordes
cuando sólo nos queda el cinismo.
Acaso el zumbido de un insecto
en el escaso vuelo de lo cotidiano.
© 1990, Fernando Linero
From: Guijarros
Publisher: Colección Literaria Simón y Lola Guberek, vol. 37, Bogotá
From: Guijarros
Publisher: Colección Literaria Simón y Lola Guberek, vol. 37, Bogotá
Poems
Poems of Fernando Linero
Close
Belief
One must have a high beliefto follow on the way of the hours
with a black sun swooping implacable.
How to fill something up to the brink
when at the will of the flies
death dances drunkenly
and cold throws out the live coals from the hearth
and the spells disappear
as well as the high grass full of innocence?
One must have a high belief
to fill up something to the brink
when we’re only left with cynicism.
Perhaps the buzz of an insect
in the meager flight of daily life.
© 2008, Nicolás Suescún
From: Guijarros
From: Guijarros
Belief
One must have a high beliefto follow on the way of the hours
with a black sun swooping implacable.
How to fill something up to the brink
when at the will of the flies
death dances drunkenly
and cold throws out the live coals from the hearth
and the spells disappear
as well as the high grass full of innocence?
One must have a high belief
to fill up something to the brink
when we’re only left with cynicism.
Perhaps the buzz of an insect
in the meager flight of daily life.
© 2008, Nicolás Suescún
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