One Thousand Women, None Like You by Alejandro Mujica-Olea - HTML preview

THE TREE TRUNK AND I

Seated on a rock

stone cold as my soul,

I contemplate with sadness

the dusk of the day,

the night in its struggle against the sun.

A few meters from me

lies a fallen tree trunk

torn out by its roots,

a captive of these black sands,

a prisoner of this jail-like beach..

The sea is in love with

this dark trunk

with its dry fragrance,

with its dry branches, with its root

open in its surrender to the world.

It lets itself be caressed

by the salty waves,

in a certain way,

I am the trunk, 

she is the sea. 

Translation by:

Monique James & Belkis Possamai