Poems

Plegaria

Señor, salva este momento.
Nada tiene de prodigio o milagro
como no sea una sospecha
de inmortalidad, un aliento
de salvación. Se parece
a tantos otros momentos...
Pero está aquí entre nosotros
y crece como una luz amarilla
de sol y de encendidos limones
-y sabe a mar, a manos amadas,
huele como una calle de París
donde fuimos felices. Sálvalo
en la memoria o rescátalo
para la luz que declina
sobre esta página,
aunque apenas la toque.

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Comments (2)

Alan Feldman

Huerta has captured that sense of fleeting happiness most of us must feel at moments; we do a split-second inventory of what makes us happy, and realize, almost simultaneously, that it is fleeting:  “we were happy,” he says of bygone times in Paris. Easy to say “remember this moment” but more realistic, and more hopeful, to ask that the moment be delivered “into the light,” a light which itself is waning, like a sunset.  Lovely translation too.  I’d merely make one suggestion:  perhaps “into the light that is setting now/ on this page.” “Sets” is also colloquial for “sits”“sits down” but what’s needed, I think, is to convey that he means “sets” as in “sunset” so maybe a verb that suggests the ongoing progression of a sunset, as in “the sun that is setting now”?  Thanks for sharing this poem!

YANIRA

i think its a wonderful poem and i like the title of it too thats what got my attention to read it and i thought it was a nice poem  smile

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