Chapter 6 morning

1 Mathilde: the name of a plant, rock, or wine, The name of things that originate in the earth and remain in the earth: The sky dawns as it grows, The light of the lemon bursts in its summer. Wooden ships sailed by this name, Fire-blue waves surround them: Its alphabet is river water, Running through my parched heart. O names exposed to tangled vines, Like a door leading to a secret tunnel— Fragrance to the world. O attack me with your fiery mouth, Or, interrogate me with your night eyes— But let me sail in and sleep on your name. 3 Bitter love, violets crowned with thorns, bushes full of stinging passions,

Spear of sorrow, wreath of wrath, By what means have you conquered my soul? Why did you so hastily burn your tender fire On the cold foliage of my life? Who is guiding you?What flowers, what rocks, What smoke led you to where I live? Indeed the dreadful night trembles, Then dawn filled all the goblets with wine, The sun proclaims its existence to the world; And at the same time cruel love haunts me endlessly, until it pierces me with a sword and a thorn, Opened an anxious road in my heart. 4 You will remember the rushing stream, Where the sweet scent rises and trembles, Sometimes a bird flies, dressed

Water color and leisurely: winter clothing. You will remember the gifts of the earth: Unforgettable fragrance, golden earth, The weeds in the bushes, the wild roots, Wonderful thorns, sharp as swords. You will remember the bouquet you picked, A bouquet of shadows and still waters, A bouquet like a stone encrusted with foam. That time seemed unprecedented, and it always seemed like this: We go where nothing waits, And find that everything is there waiting. 6 Lost in the forest, I break off a dark twig, Lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips: It may be the weeping rain, The sound of a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

something from far away, sounds like deep and secret, covered by the earth, Ah by the vast autumn, half-hidden by leaves, wet A cry blinded by darkness. Waking up in the forest of dreams, The hazel twigs sang under my tongue, Its floating fragrance climbs through my clear heart, As if the root that I abandoned suddenly Seek me again, the country that died with childhood— I stopped, hurt by the roaming aroma. 7 "Come with me," I said - no one knew Where or how my pain throbs, No one sent me carnations or boat songs, Except for the wounds opened by love. I say it again: Come with me, like last words,

No one sees the moon that bleeds in my mouth, No one sees the blood rising to the silence. O love, now we can forget about the prickly star. That's why when I hear your voice say "Come with me", feel like you're released Sorrow, love, and anger of imprisoned wine, Booming from the depths of the wine cellar: My mouth tastes fire again, Blood and carnations, rocks and burns. 9 The waves break on restless rocks, Where bright light breaks and roses bloom, The circumference of the sea shrinks to a bunch of buds, Falling as a drop of blue salt. O magnolia blooming in foam,

Charming passerby, its death blossoms Disappear again? Appear and disappear again and again: The broken salt, the dizzying motion of the sea. You and I, love, let us seal the silence together, When the ocean destroys its endless statues, Topple its impulsive white tower: Because in the long water waves and rolling sand and stones In the invisible fabric intertwined, We support the unique and difficult tenderness. 11 I want your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silently and hungry, I roam the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn divides me, All day I search for the sound of your feet flowing.

I long for your slippery laugh, Your harvest-colored hands, Longing for your pale jade nails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sun shining in your lovely body, The supreme nose on your proud face, I want to eat the fleeting shadow on your eyelashes. I walk around hungrily, sniffing the rays of the sun, Searching for you, searching for your burning heart, Like a jaguar on the Chitradu wasteland. 12 Plump women, apples of flesh, a scalding moon, The rich smell of seaweed and mud and pounded light, What dark light has opened between your columns? What ancient night does man touch with his senses?

Oh, love is a journey with water and stars, Tempests with drowning atmospheres and flour; Love is the strike of lightning, Are two bodies surrendered to one honey. Kiss after kiss I wander in your little infinity, your borders, your rivers, your little villages; And the procreative fire—how delightful it becomes— Quietly through the narrow blood channel, Till it pours fast like night carnations, Until it seems real, like a light in a dark place. 13 The light that rises from your feet to your hairline, The power that envelops your delicate body, Not mother-of-pearl, not cold silver:

You are made of bread, bread that fire loves. Grain piles high at harvest, inside you Flour is also fermented in the season of bliss: When dough doubles your breasts, My love is coal waiting in the earth. Ah, your brow is bread, your legs are bread, So is your mouth, which I devour, bread born with the morning light, My love, you are the banner of the bakery, Fire taught you the lessons of blood, You know your holiness from the flour, Learn your language and fragrance from bread. 17 I love you, but don't think of you as a rose, or a topaz, Or the arrows of carnations shot from the fire.

I love you like loving something dark, Secretly, between shadow and soul. I love you as if you never bloomed But the plant that conceals the light of the flower in itself; Because of your love, a specific scent Rising from the earth, secretly living in me. I love you, I don't know how to love, when to love, where to love. My love for you is straightforward, neither complicated nor arrogant; I love you so much 'cause I don't know otherwise In what other way: where I do not exist, you do not exist, So close that your hand on my breast is my hand, So close that you close your eyes when I fall asleep.

20 My ugly one, you are a dirty chestnut, My beauty, you are as beautiful as the wind, My ugly man, your mouth is big enough for two, My beauty, your kisses are as fresh as watermelons. Where did you hide your boobs, my ugliness? They are as thin as two cups of wheat. I prefer to see two moons lying on your chest, Two huge proud towers. My ugly creature, there's nothing like your toenails in the sea, My beauty, my flowers, my stars, Wave after wave cataloged your body, dear: I love you, my ugly one, and your golden waist, My beauty, I love you and the wrinkles on your brow, Lover, I love you, I love your clarity, and I also love your darkness. 22 Lover, I often love you but don't see you, don't remember you, Don't recognize your gaze, don't know you, a plant Misplaced cornflowers exposed to the midday sun: I just love the taste of wheat. Maybe I've seen you, pictured you raising your glass In Angle, reflecting the moonlight of the summer night; Or you're the guitar I'm strumming in the shadows waist, that guitar that sounds like a raging sea? I love you without knowing it, I search for your memory. I broke into the house with a flashlight and stole your picture, But I already knew what you looked like.suddenly, You're next to me, I touch you, my life Stop: you stand before my eyes, reigning like a queen. Like a bonfire in the forest, the flame is your territory. 25 Before I loved you, O lover, I had nothing: I hesitate in the streets, swinging among objects: Everything doesn't matter, all have no names: The world is made of waiting air. I am familiar with dusty rooms, the tunnel where the moon lives, The harsh hangars dismissed, Stubborn questions in the sand. All is empty, dead, dumb, Fallen, abandoned, decayed: Everything is strange beyond imagination, Everything belongs to others and belongs to no one, until your beauty and poverty Bring bountiful gifts for fall. 26 Whether the color of the dreadful dunes of Equique, or the estuary of the Duce River in Guatemala, Nothing can change your outline surrendered to the wheat field, A body as plump as a grape, and a mouth like a guitar. O my sweetheart, since all things were silent, From the hills ruled by tangled vines To the desolate silver-gray prairie, Every beauty of the earth is a replica of you. Yet neither the shy hand of the mine, or the snow of Tibet, or the stones of Poland, Nothing can change your beauty, your wandering grain: Like Chilan's clay or wheat, guitars or clusters Fruit, holding its dominion in you, Carry out the orders of the Savage Moon. 27 Naked you are as pure as your hands, Smooth, simple, small, transparent, round, The lines of the moon, the paths of the apples, Naked you are as slender as a naked grain of wheat. Naked you are as blue as the Cuban night, Vines and stars in your hair. Naked you, vast and bright yellow, Like summer lingers in golden churches. Naked you are as tiny as your fingernails, The subtle arc, the color of the rose, until the day Born, you are hidden underground, As if sinking into a long tunnel of dress and chores: Your bright light fades away, put on your clothes, let go of your leaves, Be bare hands again. 29 You come from the poor south, from the poor home, That harsh region known for its cold and earthquakes, Learning to live between chalk and clay When the worshiped gods themselves fall to death. You're a pony of black clay, swarthy Kiss of asphalt, oh darling, you are a poppy made of mud, Evening doves flying on the road, The piggy bank of tears from our poor childhood. Baby, you always keep a poor heart, With poor feet accustomed to stones, Your mouth often does not know what bread or sweets are. You come from the poor south that nourished my soul: In her heaven your mother and mine are still Do laundry together.I therefore choose you as my partner. 32 Morning room: truth is mingled, Blankets and feathers, the day begins Disoriented, floating like a poor boat Between the levels of order and sleep. Objects just want to drag the remains along, Aimless pursuit, cold legacy, Documents hide their shrinking vowels, The wine in the bottle prefers to continue yesterday. One who gives order to all things, you shine in it Like a bee spreading its antennae into darkened regions, You conquer the light with your white energy. You construct a new clarity thus: Items gladly surrender to the wind of life, Let the bread and the pigeons take their places in an orderly manner.