Alí Pérez (Venezuela, 1955)
Alí Pérez
(Venezuela, 1955)
Far-off song
The old maternal house
passes by my heart
covered by malangas
and the wine-red shades
of its disappeared Malabar almond trees.
A smell of cooked grains
is lost beyond the kitchen and the blue cobalt pewter
of the pots and the coffee pot
the house of my mother
is a bird
that sings in its nest of ferns
the salt in the food
the concord and the smells.
Little home
that now passes by my heart
whistling far-off trills
only my white dog
understands it.
Mother I go through the house
but I do not see her
by day a grey smoke
twists the streets
at night black clouds
cover the moon
at dawn
it is no longer there
the mount of the cross
all the foothills
are a horrible curtain
of slates and aluminum
melting the burnt green
that claims them from afar.
Mother
the mountain is no longer
it got lost like my dog
near that deer fawn
as real as those hills
you showed me
when I was five seven
or eight years old
| Do you remember, mother, do you remember? |
Translated by Nicolás Suescún.
