cesar vallejo in english

TRILCE X

Pristine and the latest
of unfounded joy, it just died
with soul and everything, october room and pregnant,
Three months of absence and ten of sweet
How fate,
monosyllabic priest, laughs.

How in the rear give up togetherness
of contraries. How always the number appears
under the line of every transformation.

How whales undress doves.
How in turn these leave the beak
marked out in third wing.
How we harpoon, at face monotonous rumps.

It is towed ten months toward the decennia,
Toward something else further away.
Two al least are left still in diapers.
And the three months of absence.
And the nine of gestation.

There is not one single violence.
The pacient raises,
And once sat shows off quiet mixtures.


TRILCE XI

I have found a girl
in the street, and she has hugged me.
X, ausculted, whoever found her and finds her,
will not remember her.

This girl is my cousin. Today, after touching
her waist, my hands have entered into her age
Like into a pair of badly finished tombs.
And by the same desolation she left,
delta on to the darkening sun,
warble between us.

“I got married”,
she tells me. With what we did as children
at the house of the dead aunt.
She got married.
She got married.

Late latitudinal years,
what true wishes have come to us
to play to the bulls, to the yokes,
but everything teasingly, in candor, like it was.