I LONG NOT TO BE

I long to strip myself of roots,
to become inanimate matter.
I carry the sap of the willow,
helpless within this mineral core.

I long for the desert's drought
to settle in my tear-filled eyes.
To rest beneath distant dunes
in the final, narrow, metal home.

I long to be an echo without sound,
to be unborn within the waves,
to die in the vigil of origin,
to be less than nothing.

Emma-Margarita R. A.-Valdés

Traductora: Vekas Rodica

 

 

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