Cosas
Pienso en umbral donde deje
pasos alegres que ya no llevo,
y en el umbral veo una llaga
llena de musgo y de silencio.
Me busco un verso que he perdido,
que a los siete años me dijeron.
Fue una mujer haciendo el pan
y yo su santa boca veo.
Things [my own translation]
I think of a threshold where I left
happier paths no longer tread,
and the footprints now seen
are full of moss and silence.
I look for a verse that is lost,
which at seven was told to me.
It was a woman making her bread
and her blessed mouth I still see.
Well, I torture Harvey when he posts a poem, so let's see what I can come up with here ...
Things [my own version]
I remember a home I visited in the past
I've not been back yet these memories last,
The address and street I still recall
but I wonder if the house still stands at all.
The things I learned there,
the experiences we shared.
It was so fleeting - I've left it behind,
yet so permanent it all is in my mind.