Quench a thirst ("Interior Deserts" by Juarroz)

medusa syndrome series IX

_ _ _

 Interior deserts,
vague litanies for someone who died
leaving all the doors open.
A gray cloak over another cloak of no color.
Excessive densities. 
Even the wind casts a shadow.
Mockery of the landscape.

Nothing left to call to 
but a flat dark sun
or an endless rain.
Or wipe out the landscape
with the wind and its shadow.

And there is one further resort:
drive the desert mad
until it turns into water
and drinks itself.

It it better to madden the desert
than to live there.

- Roberto Juarroz, Vertical Poetry
tr. by W.S. Merwin

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Happy solstice! Welcome Winter 2013!

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