For this solitude


For this solitude we have grown in

with lips against the glass

like the steep rock of a draught in the questionings.

For this denture diluted in the ends of an empty envelope.

For this solitude we swim in

ready to dredge our hands and feet.

For this solitude with which we don’t know how to ask

to be freed from the weight of our tongue,

take, hide also my son’s amygdalae.

For this incestuous solitude of kings

incapable of finding their pupils in the grass.

For this solitude how to never know

where the human root ends

and the mushroom begins, the infection of dignities.

For this full moon amid the public square.

For this solitude we‘ll have to shut the whole up,

we‘ll have to count the stars again

from the beginning, from the bottom of the fear and the eternal night

and wont be enough.


Words in the Outdoors. Contemporary Cuban Social Poetry, Selection and prologue by Pedro Llanes and Silvia Padrón Jomet. Translated by Edelmis Anoceto Vega.