Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Álvaro Marín

A SONG FOR JUAN RULFO

The silence of the future ruins
gently move to and fro in helplessness
in this place called earth
because it doesn’t yet have a name
its inhabitants
have one eye on the moon of death
and the other on a burning sun
The voice
does not spring from the lips
it is the deep trace of silence
Silence is the name of this place
so-and-so is everybody’s name
and stone or ash
the names we shall have in the void

there’s geography with the footprints of the absent 
the cut-down trees lose their leaves
in some turn of eternity
and cover the streets of the century with dead leaves
Wind passes deaf and saying nothing
it is a murmur as imposing as midnight
but not everything begins or ends here
in this geography.

CANCIÓN PARA JUAN RULFO

CANCIÓN PARA JUAN RULFO

En la orfandad
se acuna el silencio de las ruinas futuras
en este lugar que se llama tierra
por no tener un nombre todavía
sus habitantes
llevan en un ojo la luna de la muerte
en el otro un sol quemante
La voz
no nace de los labios
es la huella profunda del silencio
Silencio es el nombre de este paraje
fulano es el nombre de todos
y piedra o ceniza
los nombres que tendremos en la nada

hay una geografía con huellas de ausentes
los árboles talados se deshojan
en algún recodo de la eternidad
y cubren de hojarascas las calles del siglo
El viento pasa sordo sin decir nada
todo es un rumor imponente como la medianoche
más no todo comienza aquí ni termina
en esta geografía.
Close

A SONG FOR JUAN RULFO

The silence of the future ruins
gently move to and fro in helplessness
in this place called earth
because it doesn’t yet have a name
its inhabitants
have one eye on the moon of death
and the other on a burning sun
The voice
does not spring from the lips
it is the deep trace of silence
Silence is the name of this place
so-and-so is everybody’s name
and stone or ash
the names we shall have in the void

there’s geography with the footprints of the absent 
the cut-down trees lose their leaves
in some turn of eternity
and cover the streets of the century with dead leaves
Wind passes deaf and saying nothing
it is a murmur as imposing as midnight
but not everything begins or ends here
in this geography.

A SONG FOR JUAN RULFO

The silence of the future ruins
gently move to and fro in helplessness
in this place called earth
because it doesn’t yet have a name
its inhabitants
have one eye on the moon of death
and the other on a burning sun
The voice
does not spring from the lips
it is the deep trace of silence
Silence is the name of this place
so-and-so is everybody’s name
and stone or ash
the names we shall have in the void

there’s geography with the footprints of the absent 
the cut-down trees lose their leaves
in some turn of eternity
and cover the streets of the century with dead leaves
Wind passes deaf and saying nothing
it is a murmur as imposing as midnight
but not everything begins or ends here
in this geography.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère