FROM XAVIER URRUTIA MACHADO
Eduardo Mitre
Translation by Gabriel Mitre
I write to you bathed not in tears
but in a breathless sweat.
Since you left, the heat
has been scorching us like worms.
You cannot fathom how many
rivers and lakes have now dried up,
or the trees we have taken down
like playing cards or dominoes.
To live has now become a search
for a place and a way to emigrate. Most
search for drinking water and bread; the rich
hunt for it on Mars.
There is no place to return to here.
Even the sky is a broken pitcher,
and I, to my dismay, begin to forget you.
No, don’t come back, don’t be a fool,
Susana San Juan. Can’t you hear
how the land crackles in Ukraine,
and in the silence the sobs
of raped women?
Eduardo Mitre (Oruro, Bolivia, 1943) is the author of Morada, Mirabilia, Desde tu cuerpo, Razón ardiente, Ferviente humo, Elegía a una muchacha and Líneas de otoño.
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