Buenos Aires, 1955.
The romanticism of youth? The sentimental noise, the affectionate supplication. A woman desperately, constantly asking for something, waiting.
One’s voice is not enough.
Buenos Aires, 2017.
A poem redolent of untamed ardor made my pride feel awkward. Words from which desperation emanates.
No, nothing will be begged.
Uncertainty over beseechment. Existential silence over the cloying response of rejection. A muffled scream over a visible earthquake.
No, nothing will be seen.
Yes, everything has been forgotten, except
* Translation by Yvette Siegert