by Betti, Atilio
How are the trees, loneliness, woven
alone with their slope of silence?
How do the rivers, loneliness, cross
without a greeting of colour?, and the wind
that shudders in the lonely landscapes,
without a forest at its foot to stop it,
how does it move, loneliness, what oblivion
of its solitary strolling renews it?
How are the drops, loneliness, melted
water with water, if they don’t seek
the impossible borders of their shape?
And how will you, fragile, loneliness, without any
assistance of love to answer you,
persevere so lonely, and be consumed?
traducción de Doyle, Liliana