Poem
José Zuleta Ortiz
RESTORATION
Ships in which days travelfire on which days are cooked
mild season
shelter of open spaces
in its restored light
words flower
On fresh tiles
new steps go by
the domestic breeze on the patio
entertains the afternoon
in man are
the rice footsteps of the ring dove
the boy’s hands
are made of music
Pablo’s voice knows
the bright red skirting
and the whitewashed upper part.
The house, mild season
of serene hours
of things forgotten and of brightness
of late arrivals . . .
reason wavers
morning harbours ravings
maybe it will stop raining in the afternoon
maybe the sun will sprinkle the flowers,
back there
someone sings,
the empty cage
a frightened shadow
in one’s breast
a heart touches the silk.
© Translation: 2009, Nicolás Suescún
RESTAURACIÓN
RESTAURACIÓN
Nave donde viajan los sueñosfuego donde se cocinan los días
mansa estación
amparo de intemperies
en su luz restaurada
florecen las palabras
Sobre frescas baldosas
nuevos pasos pasan
la brisa doméstica en el patio
entretiene la tarde
están en el hombre
las pisadas de arroz de la torcaza
las manos del muchacho
son de música
la voz de Pablo conoce
los zócalos bermejos
y las blancas alturas encaladas.
La casa, mansa estación
de horas serenas
de olvidos y fulgores
de llegadas tardías . . .
la razón oscila
abraza desvaríos la mañana
tal vez la lluvia escampará en la tarde
tal vez el sol riegue las flores,
al fondo
cantan,
la jaula vacía
una sombra asustada
en el pecho
un corazón toca la seda.
© 2009, José Zuleta Ortiz
From: Las manos de la noche
Publisher: Departamento de literatura de la Universidad nacional de Colombia en la colección Viernes de Poesía Nº 65, Bogotá
From: Las manos de la noche
Publisher: Departamento de literatura de la Universidad nacional de Colombia en la colección Viernes de Poesía Nº 65, Bogotá
Poems
Poems of José Zuleta Ortiz
Close
RESTORATION
Ships in which days travelfire on which days are cooked
mild season
shelter of open spaces
in its restored light
words flower
On fresh tiles
new steps go by
the domestic breeze on the patio
entertains the afternoon
in man are
the rice footsteps of the ring dove
the boy’s hands
are made of music
Pablo’s voice knows
the bright red skirting
and the whitewashed upper part.
The house, mild season
of serene hours
of things forgotten and of brightness
of late arrivals . . .
reason wavers
morning harbours ravings
maybe it will stop raining in the afternoon
maybe the sun will sprinkle the flowers,
back there
someone sings,
the empty cage
a frightened shadow
in one’s breast
a heart touches the silk.
© 2009, Nicolás Suescún
From: Las manos de la noche
From: Las manos de la noche
RESTORATION
Ships in which days travelfire on which days are cooked
mild season
shelter of open spaces
in its restored light
words flower
On fresh tiles
new steps go by
the domestic breeze on the patio
entertains the afternoon
in man are
the rice footsteps of the ring dove
the boy’s hands
are made of music
Pablo’s voice knows
the bright red skirting
and the whitewashed upper part.
The house, mild season
of serene hours
of things forgotten and of brightness
of late arrivals . . .
reason wavers
morning harbours ravings
maybe it will stop raining in the afternoon
maybe the sun will sprinkle the flowers,
back there
someone sings,
the empty cage
a frightened shadow
in one’s breast
a heart touches the silk.
© 2009, Nicolás Suescún
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