Between my love and me three hundred nights must be raised like three hundred walls and the sea will be a witchery between us. —Jorge Luis Borges, tr. by Janet McAdams
They’ll grow between you and me, the mountains, wide and vast the river of stone will drag its riverbed to opposite banks will shipwreck boats and bridges. The jungle will rise above us and over this city and leave in its paths only the saddened echo of wind’s murmur.
For me you’ll be the long absence of an absence For you I’ll be the surf of a sea dissolving.
Such yearning disguises my appearance my pallid face watches you indifferently my entreaty for a chance made of silence night trapped among my vertebrae. Immune like the fog your voice will be the song of other travelers.
Definitive by Melissa Sauma (Translated By Janet McAdams)
