Meditation on unchanging weather

…la constante
repetición de un único recuerdo.

…the constant
repetition of a single souvenir.

~ Ricardo Mazó, trans. by Natalie d’Arbeloff

The rain was our constant companion
and souvenir, repeating words in an almost

prehistoric language, winding its long fingers
through damp strings of our hair as we slept.

All night and all day it filtered
memories of touch and taste and smell,

rendering alike the secret life
of sewers, and parlors where drapes

and carpets proliferated
their delirium of spores. Thus

it was impossible to avoid the damp
chimeras manufactured by air:

in their green ceramic bowls, salt
and sugar became indistinguishable;

and the tongues of envelopes closed in
upon themselves. But behind sheets

of glass, we heard the harp-makers
persist— how they hailed us, bearing

the impossible beauty they wrought
from street to street.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Repeating Myself....

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