To celebrate this day two poems by Margarita Ballester (1941):
The vegetal dimension of time
Death comes to a stop over me;
it doesn’t scare me, but rather comes
under the heading of nuisance.
And life slips by, down the slope,
with its many surplus hours
while death grows in the trees
that are surviving in their place.
There echoes in my head, the vegetal
dimension of the time that I shall not live
and nor will they write for us:
the time of tortoises
I shall hide my book,
and the bad luck of not having
more than life for writing.
Because I wanted it … All.
Translations: Julie Wark.
For more of her poems visit Lyrikline.