Recluse Passing

Recluse Passing

Recluse Passing

Eduardo Mitre

Translated to English by Nazre Mitre


And an intimate, reactionary sorrow.


As if an angel
was abducting them,
they go by
across streets and avenues.

In passing, she does not return
our gaze
even though she lights our soul
inflaming our enthusiasm

they just offer us snapshots
promises of paradise
(not very important they might be forged)
just a pinch of the infinite.

They pass near us but at a distant,
they goy by, gabbing, without looking,
lost in thought, imprisoned
inside their jails of cell phones,

with empty gazes
they look somewhere else, at another face
as if I were a nobody
or just a simply ghost

they are passersby of the cyberspace
ignoring anyone surrounding them
meanwhile someone contemplates them enchanted,
and yet, they are totally detached

They are passing by and they leave us
only with moment’s shredded
glass and an intimate
reactionary grief.

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