R E I N A   M A R Í A   R O D R Í G U E Z
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TWO POEMS

Translated by Kristin Dykstra

Sirens

 

The siren woke me up.
A boat was entering
wanting to cut through the glass.
But that distant boat wasn't carrying her.
“Isn't it true,” you ask me,
“that on all embarkations
waterways open one after another & again?”
The flowers bore a profound scent of the sea.
I put on the white robe
and went back to his Experiment with Truth.
I knew she died
by that scent
floating through the window.

“The woman mantled with indigo birds was assassinated
and she was still a girl,” they say.
Her father purifies under the sun
(solder)
on the stone of the monuments.

Hole in the sea.
Wind that sounded rage.
Reflection of a vacant boat.
Dread as always
at awakening.

 

 

n e x t

 

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