Labor
One moment I felt the notion of peaks. I have possessed like
a melody. They assured me, before my trip, I wasn’t made to
scale the height. I came like a client, passing through. Now I
have company at my disposal, the season benefits us. We cross
seas when the full moon appears. Whoever’s watching knows
we work with our nails. Among beggars, the lousy, we are
the ultimate in poverty.
With sun we would see our exact shadow in the lake.
Whoever’s watching should love us, and be less aloof about
our thickets burned by clusters of ice.
Filiación oscura (1966)
{ Juan Sánchez Peláez, Obra poética, Barcelona: Lumen, 2004 }
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