GOLDFINCHES BY THE RIVER

… the sound of the water wakes us,
when a doe in heat is the morning on the burning support
of the poplars;
… your hair dances and flutters like a ripe wheat field,
and the wind runs along it, catches fire and snatches away;
… goldfinches sing and forces of the sun cover your chest
with olive groves and purple, and also with love, and with my lark, with my soul;
[... Spain is on a pilgrimage and I, meanwhile, with my Iberian and Celtiberian zeal,
here, on the shore, wild animal owner of the enclosure,
territory of the river]
… and what a sigh yours and what a song mine,
in
rain

and
thirst
in our essential body;
… Spain and the world have trembled, because your skin and being have trembled!
…and, once again, they chirp and chirp, goldfinches by the river.
***
Antonio Justel/Orión de Panthoseas
https://oriondepanthoseas.com
***