A Lo Lejos Del Río

Certain are the days that dawn misty,
indigo, turquoise, and golden upon waking.
Under a sky where the last stars yawn.
Certain are the days that dawn radiant
with messenger clouds that invite you to travel,
invite you to dream.
Sometimes the days invite you to travel
guided by the morning light.
Sitting at your door
with a book in your hands
that drives you, takes you, and brings you back,
that drives you, takes you, and brings you back;
that distances you, leads you, and frees you.
Far away the river is a ribbon,
precious haberdashery ribbon.
August and this river that brings me closer
to another year along a path
surrounded by orchards.
Far away the river, precious ribbon,
that guards its silver elms in strands.
Far away the river begins its summer,
where we bathe among the reeds
next to the pools of the small delta.
The misty days do not return,
indigo, painted with the aurora borealis.
Summer seeps through the alleys
Pebbles and weeds, luminous awakening,
Under a sky where the black stork stands out.
Far away the river is a ribbon,
precious haberdashery ribbon.
August and this river that brings me closer
to another year along a path
bordered by orchards.
Far away the river, precious ribbon,
that guards its silver elms in strands.
Far away the river begins its summer
where we bathe among the reeds
next to the pools of the small delta.
In the air, the clamor of children
in the small school.
Already the ides croak by the marsh.
Bathing naked contemplating
frogs in their sky mirror.
The gentle flow of the river
giving joyfully to drink
to the rice fields, palette of light
of the impressionist painter I wanted to be and will be.
Certain are the days that with summer
end and then are reborn
In bluish smoke and sleepy honeycomb.