Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rafael Patiño

THE BALLAD OF COUNT CUT-THROAT

Returning from the beautiful plain of Ecstasy
A couple of witches play the lute
Intent on hollowing out a bit more
The burning hand of exile
They talk about Count Cut-Throat
They murmur, grumble, throw ashes to the wind
Precious instant for this magpie
To double its scarf of clover
And almost obliquely . . . love you

Balada del Conde Cortanucas

Balada del Conde Cortanucas

Regresando de la hermosa llanura del éxtasis
Un par de brujas tocan el laúd
Empeñadas en ahuecar un poco más
La mano incendiada del destierro
Hablan del Conde Cortanucas
Murmuran, gruñen, lanzan ceniza al viento
Precioso instante para que esta urraca
Doble su bufanda de trébol
Y casi de soslayo . . . te quiera
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THE BALLAD OF COUNT CUT-THROAT

Returning from the beautiful plain of Ecstasy
A couple of witches play the lute
Intent on hollowing out a bit more
The burning hand of exile
They talk about Count Cut-Throat
They murmur, grumble, throw ashes to the wind
Precious instant for this magpie
To double its scarf of clover
And almost obliquely . . . love you

THE BALLAD OF COUNT CUT-THROAT

Returning from the beautiful plain of Ecstasy
A couple of witches play the lute
Intent on hollowing out a bit more
The burning hand of exile
They talk about Count Cut-Throat
They murmur, grumble, throw ashes to the wind
Precious instant for this magpie
To double its scarf of clover
And almost obliquely . . . love you
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