Tres Árboles

Three fallen trees
Remained at the edge of the path
The lumberjack forgot them, and they converse
Clasped in love, like three blind ones

The setting sun
Puts its living blood in the split logs
And the winds carry away the fragrance
From their open side!

One twisted, stretches
Its immense arm and trembling foliage
Towards another, and its wounds
Like two eyes are, full of plea

The lumberjack forgot them. the night
Will come. I will be with them.

I will receive in my heart their gentle
Resins. they will be like fire to me.
And silent and embraced,
May the day find us in a heap of mourning!