Originally posted in Spanish on our site Letras & Poesía
Like a fleeting blow that knocks your temples,
the moment disappears just far away,
unreachable, unreal, preterite tense.
Unyielding reason that lives so quickly,
so breathless as a frigid kiss
that floods your soul for a second.
That shade of voice is gone,
that caress bestowed on the air,
that soothing sound of the afternoon
and the dreamy dawn of your eyes.
That light staging is already gone,
trying to pursue your shadow,
that trail of sleeping silence,
at the hasty brush of your fingers.
Useless clock that marks your life,
throwing sand from thought,
measuring smiles and dripping tears,
looks for pleasure of furtive memory
running in pursuit of the recalls.
Outmoded scent of withered flower,
farewell on the path of no return,
in the train of spilled life,
through stations of forgotten dreams.
Everything arrives, yet goes away,
soon you see the second hand go,
a dim landscape through the window,
and the true final portrait
drawing bits of nostalgia.
Book, record and golden wink,
present, smell and intense affection,
like water dripping through your hands,
in a rush the destiny takes them,
ephemeral instant of my past.
By José Carlos Mena (Spain)
Translation: Luca Arnaldo
Read original in Spanish —> Efímero