I want to die beneath the earth
in eternal dialogue with the salts, my hair roots
my words clay,
where your sowing eyes never hurt me
amidst a town of the dead, my mouth blocked up.
A world of hard rain
and gray hairs sweeter than manâ€™s memory
it will be a thick day when my tongue is touched
and a tender hand joins up the bones.
I want to feel the circular earth through my bones
bite it coldly, pound it with my shinbones
feel myself in its immense placenta, sleepy
like a boy awaiting a new birth.
Water emerges continuous powder
from my eyes sealed like an old letter:
an autumn tombstone rests on a tree
a maggot of time scratches my bone.
~ Edmundo Camargo, trans. from Spanish by Jessica Sequeira
Edmundo Camargo was born in Sucre and died in Cochabamba, the year his book of poemsÂ â€˜del tiempo de la muerteâ€™Â was published.
Jessica SequeiraÂ is a writer and translator living in BuenosÂ Aires.Â