She Was
My Night

She was my night
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

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

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

--- From Eyes to See Otherwise
Ojos de otro Mirar
Homera Aridjis
©2002 New Directions
Go to more poems by Homero Aridjis


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