Sumite Psalmum Jucundum
(Sing Sweet Psalms)
On this flat field
Covered with madder flowers,
We sought, with eyes riveted to the zenith,
The world’s tuning fork.
It’s there that passerines
Were shaping the mouths around their resonant trumpets
To sound out
Their delectable songs.
It was the way our souls inclined,
Of our delighted tenderness.
We were faithful to our destinies
Just as a hub is faithful to a wheel,
Just as a perfume bottle is faithful
To the fragrant essences inside.
And we knew that
For the one who is born a poet without limit ,
Poetry is life and death.
The cicadas song follows
The scansion of our verses sculpted
On the funerary pillars.
Words sharp as rock,
In the high lush junipers.
In the end, being but not being,
I exist here,