Y Cantaban La Piedras En El Rio

And the stones sang in the river
While my heart searched in vain
For the exact words in the afternoon
The Red Hill released its young eagles

And it fell silent like an empty nest
The water has birds, I feel their chirping
The water has sorrows, sleepless nights, and delirium
The water is the tale of the grandfather

Who measured the world with his steady step
Until he found the sand
And aged peacefully
And the stones sang in the river

In the golden harp of the afternoon
I kept my ancient pebble verse
The night finally came
Different in each one, for the horse

For the air, the stone, and the road
I build the night within me
I run from star to star and light them up
I drink in the cup of dusk the dreams and my life

Mine is the blue night and its mystery
I see how the birds return to the mountain
I guarded their nests
The shepherds are coming down the mountain

The shepherds build their whistle in the mountains
I have forgotten the beauty of the afternoon
The blue night triumphed over my eyes
The night came out to me like a statue

To create its beauty, I left myself
I scattered my night in pieces over the world
And I remained waiting with my hand outstretched
Contemplating the sand, pure infinite shadow

I, who made the night, was left without my night
I was left without myself
And the dream hovered around me without ever reaching me
And the stones sang in the river