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Como la hierba, crece tu lado oscuro y tendremos que esperar al otoño para sentir que cada pedazo de ti cae seco y amarillo crujiente, hasta conseguir una cara nueva y, cada mañana, prometer lo innombrable. Esperar es una prueba difícil si, en cada espera, hay una promesa que embriaga al ser y lo llena de todo con nada y respira. Respira tiempo. Tardes, cartas, llamadas, amores, trabajo, otra vida. Siempre esta tarea.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Date: 5/16/2020 6:48:00 PM
Hi Almudena, please forgive me if I translate your poems incorrectly, but I find this one to be lovely, sad but lovely. The hopelessness felt while waiting for change, as life lingers from day to day, can seem endless.
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Almudena Gavala
Date: 5/17/2020 9:16:00 AM
Thank you for your true words, James. The meaning of the poem is very well described in your words.