La noche nos borra del espacio / Francisco Pérez Perdomo

Night erases us from space

Disjointed, formless voices
begin to rise from below.
They murmur in the air,
travel through the frozen hills
and silently draw near our house.
In the distant patios of that time
those voices still voiceless
mysteriously construct
phantasmal figures, raise
their registers and become
a single hallucinating scream.
Harrowing, the scream rides
on its wire edges, ululating
it crosses the backyard shadows,
insistently pierces the tree trunks,
whistles, arrives at our bed
and freezes our blood.
Overcome with terror,
night erases us from space.

{ Francisco Pérez Perdomo, El límite infinito, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 1997 }

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