Ojalá la vida me topara contigo otra vez para decirte lo mucho que has estado conmigo en tu ausencia.
jaguar
sapphic • poetry • photography
"THE YEARS FROM ME TO YOU"
Your hair waves once more when I weep. With the blue of your eyes We see ourselves in the mirrors of the deep sea and we - Paul Celan
you lay the table of love: a bed someplace between
summer and autumn.
We drink what someone else has brewed, neither you, nor me,
nor a third:
we sip some empty and final thing.
pass food more quickly to one another:
the night is the night, it begins with the morning,
it lays me down right next to you.
Translated by Michael Hamburger


















