She Was
My Night
My Night
She was my night
my rain
my first shoe
my rain
my first shoe
she was my flower that bloomed all year
she was my fire
my milk
my tree of blood
her eyes were my first suns
for her I built cities
Era Mi Noche
Era mi noche
mi lluvia
mi primer zapato
mi lluvia
mi primer zapato
era mi flor abierta todo el año
era mi fuego
mi leche
mi arbol de sangre
eran sus ojos mis primeros soles
yo por ella construia ciudades
Tsung Ping
Too old now for climbing mountains
he relived his journeys
by painting red peaks and blue
ravines on the walls of his room
and at nightfall
like one who peers through a window
which opens into himself
he groped, sickly and slow,
through these landscapes
he relived his journeys
by painting red peaks and blue
ravines on the walls of his room
and at nightfall
like one who peers through a window
which opens into himself
he groped, sickly and slow,
through these landscapes
Tsung Ping
Viejo ya para montar montañas
revivía sus viajes
pintando en las paredes del cuarto
picos rojos y barrancas azules
y al caer la tarde
como quien mira por una ventana
que da adentro de sí
lento y enfermo
él iba por esos paisajes
revivía sus viajes
pintando en las paredes del cuarto
picos rojos y barrancas azules
y al caer la tarde
como quien mira por una ventana
que da adentro de sí
lento y enfermo
él iba por esos paisajes
--- From Eyes to See Otherwise
Ojos de otro Mirar
Homera Aridjis
©2002 New Directions
Ojos de otro Mirar
Homera Aridjis
©2002 New Directions