The flight of the crane

The flight of the crane

crosses a sky of ashes

                 it guesses the first things as it rises

black lines
cleave the black air

                 a closed alphabet

its dead trees

                 reappear

roots raising cathedrals

songs of a single stone
that my hands translate

I was born
not to lose
a movement in its writing

its priests are an unrepeatable fog

                  they open the flame

they tread on

                   they disappear

The flight of the crane

El vuelo de las grullas
                    
atraviesa un cielo de ceniza

                    adivina al primero en levantarse

líneas negras
hienden el aire negro

                   alfabeto cerrado

sus árboles muertos
                  
                   reaparecen

raíces levantan catedrales

cantos de una sola piedra
que mis manos traducen

He nacido
para no perder
un movimiento en su escritura

sus sacerdotes son niebla irrepetible

                    abren la llama

huellan

                    desaparecen.