THREE POEMS BY OCTAVIO PAZ

Translated by John Frederick Nims

In memory of Pierre Reverdy

There come to me
Certain birds
And a black idea.
Murmur of trees,
Murmur of trains and motors,
This moment, is it arriving? leaving?
The silence of the sun
Penetrates laughter and sighs,
Sinks its goad
Deep as the stony cry of the stones.
Sun-heart, stone that pulses,
Stone of blood that matures in fruit:
The wounds open and do not hurt,
My life, very much like life, is flowing on.