Epitaph


A bird once lived in me.
A flower traveled in my blood.
My heart was once a violin.


I loved or didn’t love. But sometimes I
was loved. I reveled in
them, too: the spring,
the hands together, bliss.

I say, and so a man should be!

Here lies a bird.
A flower.
A violin.


*******
Juan Gelman (Buenos Aires, 3 May 1930 ~ México D. F., 14 January 2014).
* Translated by Robin Myers.  

Popular posts from this blog

A Chagall and a Tree Leaf

Nobody's Darling

Aquel Viento Irreparable