Poetry
For my father, who is now eternal

For my father, who is now eternal

A mi padre, que ya es eterno

Wendolyn Lozano Tovar

Translated by Jen Orenstein


In the pines’ sleeping memory
one chill and humid morning
I wandered here.

You who gave me shelter
in your misty embrace
old forest
you knew I would return.

I am no longer that solitary boy
who planted a desire
in your mossy chambers.

You recognize me
my hands learned to read
along the ridges of your bark.

It was on these trails
that I faced my first crossroads
my feet moved fallen leaves
choosing my path.

You taught me all about music
the firs were bards
the moths, dryads.

And like a true father
you knew how to listen
in all of its tones
to the song of my enigmas.

I didn’t know it then
but it was in that place of remote mystery
that like wind
I learned to blow.

This language that I now
speak with my children
as a butterfly speaks
to the oaks as she departs

You taught me all about silence.
Look at me, now I am more like the mist.

That dawn, I heard your call.
My last breath carried the scent
of your red earth.

Old friend: I have returned
to fulfill that desire
hidden in your moss-decked chambers.

The woman that I love
holds between her hands
so much more than my matter.

In her heart she knows
now I am more like her.

Hold me once more
like when I was a child.

I’ve finally found my home.

And now blowing in circles
I tousle the hair
on my grandchildren’s heads
before flying on.

Canalejas Forest

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