Gaia
The streaked blue orb
fixed her coordinates in space
regulated her oven and the spate of waters
conceived live cells starfish
sprouted furry limbs
spines blood vessels
and the eye
sphere like herself
to contemplate herself
her cloak her air her children
with a hunter’s precision
with love
Exact passionate outlines
of buffalo and horse in caves
conjugated killing and loving
Since then the eye
has become clouded
veiled hardened
its surface is brittle now
blackened by many deaths
outside the law
emptied of love
the gift of sight is withdrawn
Son of Man
Smoke-grey afternoon
threat of fire under my skin
leaves and oranges wrinkle
dust dims resisting flowers
filters among the brain’s folds
I’m angry start to shout
only the dogs hear me
I refuse it can’t end like this
In my head in my heart
a bright green velvet lining forms
in that grass eggs swell
from each one a little god emerges
One grows in my chest
feeding on my organs
taking strength from my bones
handsome and tall as a tree
he’s the Son of Man
and still he brandishes his sword
and still he promises justice
Thanatos’s Wife
Thanatos’s wife
sleeps in her alcove,
the bed is soft and flowery,
her face peeps from a nest
of silk and velvet,
she breathes quietly.
Sometimes her skin is smooth
and her eyelids tender
like a newborn;
then her lips redden
her hair quivers:
does she hope to be awakened
by the voice of love?
At an unknown hour
finally she opens her eyes
in her brown wrinkled face,
she smiles with entire compassion
at the stunned passer-by
as if saying my embrace
is the promise that accompanies you
up to the limit.
Translated by the author
