1I want to be the crying gardener
of the soil you occupy and enrich,
my soul's companion, way too soon.
Feeding the rains, the seashells
and organs is my useless pain.
To the discouraged poppy field,
I shall give your heart as nourishment.
So much pain is gathering in my side,
that for hurting too much, even my breath aches.
A merciless smack, a freezing hit,
an invisible and murderer axe-blow,
a savage push has knocked you down.
There's no extension greater than my wound,
I cry my misfortune, and everything it gathered,
and I feel your death more than my life.
I walk among the stubble of the dead,
with no one's warmth, and no one's comfort,
I go from my heart to my issues.
Death took flight way too early,
too early was even the early morning,
too early you're rolling on the floor.
I can't forgive the lovesick death,
I can't forgive the thankless life,
I can't forgive the soil and the void.
In my hands now I lift a storm
of stones, lightning and roaring axes,
thirsty and hungry for disasters.
I want to dig the ground with my teeth,
I want to take off the soil, bit by bit,
with dry and burning bites.
I want to mine this ground until I find you,
so I can kiss your noble skull,
and untie you and make you return.
You'll return to my garden and my fig tree,
among the flowers' tall scaffolds,
your hiving soul will keep on birding,
with angelic beeswax and tasks.
You'll come back to the soft lullaby
made by the bars of loving farmers.
You'll put joy over the shadow of my brow,
and your blood will go to each side,
for which your bride and the bees argue.
My greedy voice of a lover
calls from a field of foaming almonds,
to your heart, now a worn out velvet.
To the winged souls of the blossoms
of the almond tree, I summon you,
because we left too much things untalked,
my soul's companion, my companion.
1. The original poem begins with this dedication:
"In Orihuela, his town and mine,
death like a lightning strike took away from me
Ramón Sijé, with whom I loved so much."