[In dreams I see the horses graze]

[En sueños miro pastar a los caballos]

Mayco Osiris Ruiz

Translation by Yasmín Rojas Pérez

In dreams I see the horses graze.

They walk around the hill from one side to another,

by these green lands that the night illuminates in my memory;

they walk amongst the buds, between oats’ outbursts,

they fan their body with their tail

to avoid the horseflies’  small spear.

They are the same horses I met one evening in the field,

the same ones that arrived near the edge of the river

looking for a taste of tender grass.

Their bodies, like back then, are warm and sturdy

but they have slowed down,

they have been burdened by the rains,

they have been worn by the stress of pulling.

Their eyes are serious, the figure exhausted,

the fur ruined from the blows, the wind and the heat.

They are shady traces from another world,

a world I have forgotten

and now comes back to me from afar

filled with memories, with images

and names that return in pieces.

I see the horses graze. In their exhausted flanks

there are traces of pains and past tortures

memories of one rainy evening

that in dreams smell of sacred candle and wet horse,

and in their waters drag my grandmother’s face

her features erased from the impact

of an insulin shot,

her will broken when she could no longer go on

and she laid down to die

like the old horse that comes to rest under a mesquite tree.

And I did not cry, I could not cry for her,

I did not close her eyes, nor did I hold her hands

because that evening I was in the field

clinging on to the sides of my mount,

today I find her again,

serene in the space without time among the dreams,

I watch her return in between horses, I kiss her in this peace

and although everything has changed,

I contemplate her walking away with them by the river,

a river of heavy, familiar waters. 

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