Por fortuna son esta forma informe
e agacho na cunca das mans
as aristas escachadas da imperfección
no corazón dunha esponxa mariña
así cando creo que o aire escasea
e sufro os mareos precursores da agonía
algo liso que debía manterse eterno
estrala e antes de se esvaer o asombro
xa estou alí de novo:
estudando a luz dunha estrela
ou atrapado no arrecendo da abelia
The light of a star
Fortunately, I am this formless shape
and I cup in my hands
the broken edges of imperfection
at the heart of a sea sponge.
So when I think the air is running out
and suffer the dizziness that heralds agony,
something smooth that was meant to remain eternal
cracks open, and before the wonder fades
I am there again:
studying the light of a star
or caught in the scent of an abelia.
