VIII

Today I saw a photograph in which
You wear a hat, rolled-up trousers, and carry a fishing rod.
You were happy, as if the world did not
Still exist.
What were you thinking on that laughing afternoon?

When I saw you in that photo,
A fist closed over my heart.

I am fed by the occasional sadness
Of seeing you, from the perspective of years,
As a young man, immune to night storms.
Or as an old man, defeated by light,
With God’s weariness upon his shoulders.

What was in your thoughts, that afternoon,
Who was?

VIII

VIII

Hoy he visto una foto en la que tienes
Sombrero, pantalón remangado y caña de pescar.
Estabas feliz, como si el mundo todavía
No existiera.
¿Qué pensabas esa tarde de risas?

Al verte en la fotografía,
Un puño se cerró sobre mi corazón.

A mí me alimenta la ocasional tristeza
De verte desde la perspectiva de los años
Como un hombre joven, inmune a las tormentas de la noche.
O como un anciano derrotado por la luz,
Con la fatiga de Dios sobre sus hombros.

¿Pensabas en qué esa tarde,
En quién?