PLAYA Y CAMPO
Paisajes De Ocaso
A la luz oblicua de un sol en derrota,
los tallos de cana madura i cortada
parecen casquillos de cobre. Las tierras
son un devastado campo de batalla.
Dispersos fragmentos de viejos calderos
una artilleria deshecha simulan,
tras la barricada compacta que fingen
dos filas contiguas de sacos de azucar.
La acequia en declive, de lodosas aguas,
en un chorro hirviente un fundido plomo,
i hasta los guijarros en su cauce
ruedan belicosamente.
I es humeante el polvo...
Pero hacia el oriente, surge
otro paisajeque de opuesto
modo la vista impresiona.
Castillano missing
PLAYO Y CAMPO
Paisajes de Ocaso/Sunset Landscape
When the sloping rays of the sun
depressthe over-ripened sugar canes,
they imitate copper helmets.
The fields, a devastated war camp.
Scattered pieces of old boilers
make themselves into old bomb shells,
behind compact casks. two unbroken
lines of sugar bags.
The flashing waters, pushes death down
before is a boiling spurt of melted iron,
the pebbles rolling down the river bed
are atwar... Nothing but smoking dust...
Something else is to the east:
there, La Vida is impressive,
La Vida face to face, the world
of battle and that which enjoys...
In a sane world that makes
much of itself and makes clean,
the cane fields are green and fresh.
The little ones gambol and link limbs,
under the lavender blue of the sky.
Intermittent zephyrs, filtered by
the innocents, produce timid,
mothey explode in laughter.
Even the light plays with the mist,
painting two fat clouds,that
become two smears of rose chalk,
over the blackbird mountain,
whisper as when at night
hey explode in laughter.
Tthe light plays with the mist,
painting two fat clouds,
that become two smears of rose chalk,
over the blackbird mountains.
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