Abdication
I become mute
amid the real,
and the real says
with its language
what I keep.
Does a face
need words?
The flower
want sounds?
Are words sought
by the dog, the rock, by fire?
Don’t they express themselves
just by being?
Immense mouths
deafen us
without being heard.
I stop talking. I go no further than my eyes.
I’m sure of these surroundings.
Memorial (1977)
{ Rafael Cadenas, Antología, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 1996 }
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