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Juan Cameron (Chile, 1947)

Juan Cameron

(Chile, 1947)

A Sort of Good-Bye

I’m going I’m tired
I’ve a right to leave after all the journey working this earth
>working it doubly with hand and brain
hiding my head beneath the ground to cry out shouting demanding
with my breast to the sky that I may be seen
I didn’t come to this day I wasn’t invited
I tore my clothing and the flesh of my breast to show my blood and its
heartbeat
here I am sweat-soaked and one wing ready
to cross the water once again in search of other tillage
I am the bird and the worm
I am this tight fist that digs down and jumps up and flies
for such is how they made me, those who knew my daily existence
my quiet song
I was the waterman and the wine the hero and the victim
the witness
I was the tender acreage when the night reclaimed these my fingers
I had ideas I saw them I had a house anchored deep in the rock and the
landscape
Now I take flight find my footing
to run down that track a gesture perhaps a smile
I’m going it’s not a kerchief
it’s a feather waving that leaves behind in the distance
a furrow in this track for my return.

Translated by Kenneth Rivkin.

Última actualización: 28/06/2018