Elegía [English translation]

(In Orihuela, his town and mine, Ramón Sijé, whom I loved dearly, has died as though as struck by lightning)

I want to be the weeping gardener

of the land you occupy and fertilize,

oh my soulmate, so soon.

Feeding rains, snails

and organs, my aimless pain,

to the downtrodden poppies

I´ll give your heart as nourishment.

So much pain converges on my sides

that even my breath is fraught with it.

A harsh slap, an icy blow,

an invisible, killing axe cut

a brutal shove has felled you.

There´s no expanse greater than my wound,

I cry my misfortune and its ramifications,

and I feel your death more acutely than my life.

I walk over the remnants of the dead,

without anyone´s warmth, without relief

I go from my heart to my earthly concerns.

Soon did Death take flight,

soon did the dawn got up early,

soon you rolled on the ground.

I won´t forgive the lovestruck Death,

I won´t forgive the uncaring life,

I won´t forgive the earth, nor the nothingness.

On my hands I raise a storm

of stones, lightning and strident axes,

thirsting for catastrophes, and hungry.

I want to dig into the earth with my teeth,

I want to part the ground, side to side

with curt, hot bites.

I want to dig in the earth until I find you,

and kiss your noble skull

and get you out of the burial robes and return you.

You´ll come back to my orchard and my fig tree:

through the flower´s high scaffoldings

your soul linger playfully, like a bee

making heavenly waxes and labors.

You will return to the lull of the fences

of the loving peasants.

You´ll lighten the shadow of my brows,

and your blood will part, side to side,

conflicted between your girlfriend and the bees.

Your heart, now faded velvet,

is called to a field of foaming almond flowers

by my greedy lover´s voice.

To the winged souls of the roses

of almond trees I am calling you:

for there are many things we need to talk about,

oh my soulmate, my companion.