Agardan os libros de poesía
No cuarto asediado pola couza
a humidade, na casa rodeada de outono
que alimenta a terra con follas de viña
terra sen dono que me posúe
e aporta minerais aos meus soños
como fai coas herbas, as árbores
eu, un máis dos seus fillos
lévolle tamén os meus versos caídos
os máis tristes para que a estación
logre avanzar cara ao equilibrio estático
do inverno
Food
Poetry books await
in the room besieged by the woodworm
the humidity, in the house surrounded by autumn
that feeds the land with grapevine leaves
ownerless land that owns me
and brings minerals to my dreams
as it does with grasses, trees
I, one more of its children,
also bring it my fallen verses
the saddest ones so that the station
manage to move towards static equilibrium
of the winter
abel abilheira 