La función

Munch. Women in three stages.

Desde antes de nacer
Tenías el palco de honor
A esta hora en punto.
Actores desfilando, clamando, sufriendo
haciendo sufrir
Recibiendo la ovación del olvido,
tu indulgente aplauso.
Muriendo en el escenario
para revivir (no todos)
tras bastidores
¿Quién superará el talento de la actriz
que no sabe que lo es?

El sol de la tarde se cierne sobre tu piel
Le quita al decorado sus colores
los actores se cansan
los parlamentos caducan
otra función espera.
Emprendes sola el camino a casa.
La ficción no ha sido en vano:
Siempre queda como souvenir
algún despojo en el escenario.

He evoked her then...

 I

Every night since then

I sit on that couch

With crossed fingers on my knees

And the head sunken into the shoulders

The couch is colored in red hunger

The hall is spacious like a mind with no thoughts

Like a clock that does not tell us the time.

I rehearse that moment again

Suddenly I notice how this couch suddenly sinks right next to me

And I do not need to turn around

To hear two heartbeats in collision course

To feel a heat wave on my lips.
Just before the hall, the couch and the world itself
be consummated.

II

Walking down by this shore

No ships, no footsteps
as far as the eye can see.

Overwhelmed by the scent in the air

Tobacco, fine soap, perfume

 your salty absence.

This sea is infinite like your hideous blanket

That you could push from the inside forever

Never seeing its seams.

But voyager's hope and fear belong to the fixed stars

Not to the sea itself.

You never know what eastern wind could bring

One of these nights.

ChD.