Sunday Poem

Postcard From a Port

The philosopher González Pérez, stevedore of seat
number three, examines with imperceptible avidity
the sensual movement of the sea. Each white drop of foam
having brought forth a gram of a grand immeasurable secret. The roar
of boats’ motors does not impede his thoughts on all
that earth was and will never become
because they ran an unspeakable path
at the hand of blonde goddesses – half sins,
half women, base and ordinary.

by Veronica Jimenez
from: Nada tiene que ver el amor con el amor
publisher: Garceta Ediciones, Santiago, Chile, 2015
translation: 2017, Heather James

Original Spanish following jump:


Postal de Puerto

El filósofo González Pérez, estibador del sitio
número tres, examina con avidez imperceptible
los movimientos de la mar. Cada gota de blanca espuma
ha de portar un gramo de ese gran secreto inmensurable. El rugir
de los motores de las barcazas no le impide pensar en todos aquéllos
que tierra eran y en tierra nunca se convertirán,
porque corrieron un destino innombrable
de la mano de rubias diosas, mitad peces,
mitad mujeres comunes y corrientes.