He Alone
J
Jules Supervielle
0
Altın Yaprak
If you touch his hand, it's without knowing.
You remember him, but under another name.
In the middle of the night, in your deepest sleep
you say his real name and invite him to stay.
One day - it could be any time at all - there's a knock
and I guess it is he who has come to be near us,
and you look at him with such forgetfulness that he goes
far away to the place he came from, yet leaving
a door, faint and living, as he is.
Translations by IAN SEED.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (İspanyolca) değil, bir çeviridir.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş