Poem
Carlos Vásquez
Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house
Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house.Three days were nights, fugitive of the light my body invents itself.
Get up. Not even God would have called me so.
The silences of its love are calling you.
Love sleeps in the word, the tree in the drought.
I awaken like a house on fire. Someone from the last corner hides an ancient fear.
The house is something in the last corner.
© Translation: 2005, Nicolás Suescún
Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house
Bajo pesadas losas creí soñar el silencio de la casa
Tres días fueron noches, fugitivo de la luz mi cuerpo se piensa. Levántate. Ni Dios me hubiera llamado así.
Te llaman los silencios de su amor.
El amor duerme en la palabra, el árbol en la sequía.
Despierto como la casa en el incendio. Alguien desde el último rincón encubre un miedo antiguo.
Algo en el último rincón es la casa.
Tres días fueron noches, fugitivo de la luz mi cuerpo se piensa. Levántate. Ni Dios me hubiera llamado así.
Te llaman los silencios de su amor.
El amor duerme en la palabra, el árbol en la sequía.
Despierto como la casa en el incendio. Alguien desde el último rincón encubre un miedo antiguo.
Algo en el último rincón es la casa.
© 1994, Carlos Vásquez
From: El oscuro alimento
Publisher: Ediciones Bolsillo Roto, Medellín
From: El oscuro alimento
Publisher: Ediciones Bolsillo Roto, Medellín
Poems
Poems of Carlos Vásquez
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Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house
Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house.Three days were nights, fugitive of the light my body invents itself.
Get up. Not even God would have called me so.
The silences of its love are calling you.
Love sleeps in the word, the tree in the drought.
I awaken like a house on fire. Someone from the last corner hides an ancient fear.
The house is something in the last corner.
© 2005, Nicolás Suescún
From: El oscuro alimento
From: El oscuro alimento
Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house
Under heavy slabs I thought I dreamt the silence of the house.Three days were nights, fugitive of the light my body invents itself.
Get up. Not even God would have called me so.
The silences of its love are calling you.
Love sleeps in the word, the tree in the drought.
I awaken like a house on fire. Someone from the last corner hides an ancient fear.
The house is something in the last corner.
© 2005, Nicolás Suescún
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