Había onte un poema
asomaba ansioso de ver a luz
busquei un lapis co que marcalo
un cordel para rodear a sua semántica
deixala aí amarrada
até á chegada da primavera
Neste proceso debín cair
profundamente durmido
non sei o tempo pois os reloxos
foran consumindo as agullas
reducidas a un diminuto punto
que como tal a ningures apunta
Ao espertar lembrei o cordel, o lapis
que finalmente non apareceran
habitante dun arrabalde do desconcerto
rodeando incrédulo as miñas notas
por sorte, ao pé da porta da muralla
duas árbores estouraran de branco e rosa
Pronto as aceras cubertas de pétalos
serán as únicas beneficiarias
daquel poema perdido
Suburb of bewilderment
There was a poem yesterday,
peeking out eager to see the light
I looked for a pencil with which to mark it
a string to surround its semantics
and leave it tied there
until the arrival of spring
In this process I must have fallen
deep asleep
I don't know the time because the clocks
had been consuming their needles
which reduced to a tiny point
that, as such, points nowhere
Upon waking up I remembered the string, the pencil
that finally had not appeared
inhabitant of a suburb of bewilderment
circling my notes in disbelief
fortunately, at the foot of the wall gate
two trees had burst into white and pink
Soon the pavements covered in petals
will be the only beneficiaries
of that lost poem
abel abilheira 