Runaway
Since my escape I see ports receding, the touch I knew,
houses and cheap restaurants, faces,
the same scene always, its pain.I am attentive each day to that moment in which things
tremble,
in which the soul wishes to linger,
open out,
caress each beach gently, each length of felt,
see rain gather again over the same earth, run,
be able to change and repeat.What is happening to me is not the impossible
but its dream,
the menace of its dispersal.
Translated by Jane Duran
Page(s) 252
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