Por la pradera diminuta... / Emilio Adolfo Westphalen

Through the minute prairie...

Through the minute prairie of a voice floating in the airs
With the easy weight of the planets worn by the flowers
Amid the ensigns of the days uprooted and wandering
On a succession of seas marvelously cultivated
With the song of the birds as bed and trench of the barques
And the tail of the peacock as nimbus of the smallest things
The transparent shells the porcelain seaweed
The lopped off fingers of children and the born thimbles
Under the crust of mushrooms in the mud flats
In the tangled hair of a girl in the milky way
In the heart itself of music stepping
With the sun against our chests deepening
Letting blood run like a good river
Because the one I receive and the one you carry are the same
And the same thickets resound in our screams
And the same doves rest on our eyes
And the same flutes traverse us to establish our domain
Turning the moons over villages
And the serpents over forests
Bringing the sky over our venture
Its foam splashing our beaches
The feverish trees continuing their life in our veins
The poplar groves leaning to the compass of our hearts
You as the lagoon and me as the eye
That one and the other interpenetrate each other
So the tree and the breeze so the dream and the world
Taking depth from the night and from the day extension
To what caves fleeing against so much splendor
Day that never moves sky that walks for us
Rivers that don’t know how to wound and barques that crowd
          our chests
The mouths float like zodiac signs
The arms cross like flowers on water
The foreheads follow the currents and the eyes separate
          nothing
It is the flaming glory that rests in our bodies
Lifting over the atrocious battle of darkness and light
The ensign of the holy company and the still glances
It is glory fallen at our feet
It is triumph wounded like a subterranean twilight
Changing seasons in the core of the quicksilver
Like a rose drowned amid our arms
Or like the sea being born from your lips




Abolición de la muerte (1935)




{ Emilio Adolfo Westphalen, Otra imagen deleznable..., México D.F.: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1980 }