ALICIA MINJAREZ RAMIREZ

Alicia Minjarez
Ramírez

THE PATH OF YOUR STEPS

Naked and lurking 
tenderness
at the riverbank,
a kiss clinging on
as a vine
and climbing
through the sap
of my branches.

I spy on the night
in your thistles,
adjacent meridians
in the nectar
of your Nile.

Of  all your summers
emanate and disappear
crepuscular fragments,
frosts decorate
the melodic chant
of orioles
 
and blackbirds.

I invent you and lose you
in the zephyr choleric notes,
the sublime lightness
makes silence thunder up.

Dissolving my dawns
in the hustle of memory,
fire against the light
of the stranger and nubile
torso of your body.


You rain and crumble
over my fragrant touch,
blast that exalts
the sound of the stones
building up
my roads,
long gone
 
and desolated
landscapes
blooming today
behind your
own steps.

Translated by: Alaric Gutiérrez










TRAVELLER
Redemptive breeze
imprisons my space,
like raining stars
as fragrant words
at the crescent moon,
salt conspires about
your shooting and lasting
existence.

Blue air flutter about
your wet
vertices notes,
ascending
through 
the tree’s essence.
Guttural sounds
spotting
the horizon.

I sense you
among murmurs
of leaves
diluting
liquid shadows,


imaginary
pigeon’s pieces,
luminance music
of the dreams
we forge.

I find you,
wrong or right,
in haste;
in the rain’s
incessant voice.
Beautiful traveler
of dreamed steps
and arms of fire.

Drowned in
desire-scented steam
I dusk upon
foreign oaks,
as touch produced by
your path;
dark moor
of an old sky
reinvent
your word of light,
the illusory
copulation
of language.










IT RAINS…
A longing breeze
tries to show itself,
like nostalgia
migrating
up in the air.

Water permeates
my body.
Your breath
fills in
the context.

Longing secrets
that the wind
shakes up in the offing,
then nothingness.

I walk behind
upon the moisture
left by the drops
under the branches.

Birds get detached
from their nests,
looking for
the promised shelter.

Church bells ring,
outside
the night
interrupts.

I long to dry off
the rain,
like those birds
besetting


park trees
in the evening.          


The stillness of your eyes
invades me…
Ecstatic wings,
paralyzing their flight.
At my silence’s feet.

Translator:   Alaric  Gutiérrez

Author:
 Alicia  Minjarez  Ramírez
Tijuana Baja California, Mexico.


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