Poems

by Coral Bracho

The surface of water is tense
for a wasp,
it is a multiple path always flowing
like the touch of time
on the still depth
of a short space.

Short is the time
in which it floats; short
the distance/interval on which it spins
through endless labyrinths,
uncertain swirls/eddies, flames,
and inextricable
transparency.

The literal translation of this poem was made by Tom Boll

The final translated version of the poem is by Katherine Pierpoint

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