Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Luz Helena Cordero

DAILY LIFE

An ambulance passes looking for a wounded person,
the red sound goes round and round
avid of blows, of falls,
vulture that prays to heaven for food.
We all revise our bodies
in case there is a hole
and through it our wish to move around escapes,
to push our shoes.
Some one has seen our name passing by
in the parade of prayers.
It is possible that we are already dead
and go around erect like tree trunks
that deceive birds.

COTIDIANA

COTIDIANA

Pasa una ambulancia en busca de un herido,
da vueltas el sonido rojo
ávido de golpes, de caídas,
buitre que ruega al cielo su alimento.
Todos nos revisamos el cuerpo
no sea que exista un agujero
y por ahí se nos escapen las ganas de movernos,
de empujar los zapatos.
Alguien ha visto pasar nuestro nombre
en el desfile de los rezos.
Es posible que ya estemos muertos
y sigamos erguidos como troncos
que engañan a los pájaros.
Close

DAILY LIFE

An ambulance passes looking for a wounded person,
the red sound goes round and round
avid of blows, of falls,
vulture that prays to heaven for food.
We all revise our bodies
in case there is a hole
and through it our wish to move around escapes,
to push our shoes.
Some one has seen our name passing by
in the parade of prayers.
It is possible that we are already dead
and go around erect like tree trunks
that deceive birds.

DAILY LIFE

An ambulance passes looking for a wounded person,
the red sound goes round and round
avid of blows, of falls,
vulture that prays to heaven for food.
We all revise our bodies
in case there is a hole
and through it our wish to move around escapes,
to push our shoes.
Some one has seen our name passing by
in the parade of prayers.
It is possible that we are already dead
and go around erect like tree trunks
that deceive birds.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère