una poema

 Los Indios Cielos

Abramos un camino en el aire,
para mirarnos,
busquemos un rincón en el aire
para acostarnos.
Sin luz en el cuerpo
sólo con fuego.
Este color de sombra tiene tu cara.
Este color de sombra es la sombra de tu alma.
Abramos un camino en el aire
con tu brazo.
Si no te ven mis ojos, que te vea
mi carne.
¡Ah! No tenemos luz en el cuerpo
Tenemos fuego.

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The Blind Indians

Lets open a road in the air

so we can look at each other.

Lets look for a corner in the air

so we can lie down.

 Without light in our bodies, only fire.

Your face has the color of shadow.

The color of shadow, the color of your soul.

Lets open a road in the air

with your arm.

If my eyes do not see you

my flesh will.

Ah we don´t have light in our bodies.

We have fire.

Joaquin Pasos

 

One of these days I need to drink eight cups of coffee, find an air conditioned Cyber and update this blog. It seems impossible to catch up. I found this poem in a book while wasting away time on a curb in the middle of a campesino community. Poetry is HUGE in Nicaragua. Poets are celebrities. 

Right now we are in Leon and it is HOT, HOT, HOT. 

Ice cream has never been so necessary.