Sirgadora de las nubes... / Emilio Adolfo Westphalen

Tracker of the clouds...

Tracker of the clouds dragged along by your hair
In the lifted silence of two parallel seas
And each limbo forged with your new glances
And each hope free to stir
Marshes and brambles to find the pearls
Covered by seven admirable palms by lozenges
Something else to not call you risky among the fates
The fears gathered the hopes born
The smiles deployed the tassels unwrapped
The teeth flowered the tears tinkling
Amid a crackling of fire against music by a girl against dream
The squealing happiness of seeing you girl and girl
Crashing soft little plates like hands
Trumpets of listen to me because I don’t respond
Under the shadow of birds and golden skies
And tears grown from carrying in their globe
The amorous accords of inaudible joys
According to a growing rumor of waves of rags
Amid large petals more than human stature
And bees sipping from our lips
Like this so as to not understand a curtain between each kiss
The marbles for the doves of grace exhausted
A few cypresses somewhat destined for the other sky
Going around without exhaustion without dropping the glass
A spout fanned by brilliants
Some spinning tops scratched revealing the tides of their hearts
A silk threaded from the honey of your lips
A few birds losing themselves in your hair
Support for the cold your forehead complete crystal
And a cloud stretched out beside trembling silence
Cadence after cadence of eyelids closed after eyelids
In the balanced barques some solitary hands
The auras dispersed with breath from the rivers
And other liquid hands to find ourselves blindly
And something like heads rolling down stairs
And something like fruit rising from circle to circle
To the pleasures the rainbows the breezes trespassing our foreheads
Carefully giving up words and lifting rivers
There were so many nests of sweetness and silence between our mouths
Between our hands such toil to settle in one
The world looked better in your eyes
Bigger and heavier with lilies
Stretched out like a dream or a cloud
The oysters cling to the walls of your dream
The pearls falling from your hands like words
This is how I always see you abandoned on a laughing shore
Amid scarps bathed in our hesitant coins
More fragile girl more fragile than your portrait in the water
Or than you yourself soaring to the clouds
Or than you yourself stretched out in my eyes
The pearls of love counted by your hands were growing like words
O flowers of your laughing tree
O silence of your hands charged with a heavy world of lilies

Abolición de la muerte (1935)

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

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