Dos Sonetos
Quilapayún
Two Sonnets
Other days will come, it will be understood
the silence of plants and planets
and how many pure things will happen
will smell like moon the violins!
The bread will maybe be like you are:
it will have your voice your wheat condition,
and other things will speak with your voice:
the lost horses of autumn.
Even if it's not as planned
love will fill large barrels
like the ancient honey of shepherds,
and you in the dust of my heart
(where there will be immense warehouses)
will come and go among watermelons.
In the middle of the earth I will set apart
the emeralds to spot you
and you will be copying the wheat
with a pen of messenger water.
What a world! What deep parsley!
What a ship sailing in sweetness!
And you maybe and I maybe topaz!
There will be no division in the bells anymore.
There will only be the open air,
the apples carried by the wind,
the succulent book in the arbor,
and where the carnations breathe
we will found a suit that resists
the eternity of a victorious kiss.
