Entre el día y los sueños / Francisco Pérez Perdomo

Between the Day and its Dreams

Between the day and its dreams,
the man, who could barely stand,
was walking alone.
He was walking in his mute desert.
Rising from the earth,
again and again,
the silence of the dead.
He was walking around and around
his own self.
A nameless exhaustion
haunted him. It insisted
circling over
his very own body.
He was carrying the prodigious weight
of an immense torture.
A dark secret made him twitch
and overshadowed his face.
It was moaning in the voice of the wind
crossing at that moment,
desolate, through the plateaus.
The man, just like
Jeremiah, was lamenting.
He looked into those
mirrors as if he were
seeing beyond the world.
He would, suddenly, reach the point
of an unstoppable gust of wind.
Now the man had just
passed through
without ever having arrived.

{ Francisco Pérez Perdomo, Eclipse, Edición de autor: Caracas, 2008 }

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