THE REVEALED SIGNS
I climbed the hillside
to see the wide
river, the rose-coloured city,
and the cypress covered
mountains
as the sun set.
There were celebrations,
and groups of people
descended from the light
happily, their voices
high, joyful. Free,
they were returning to the valley.
And I noticed that a stranger
with steady gaze
looked upon the sun. The towers
now embers
of air, stations
of darkest fire.
The cypresses trembled
on the mountain ridge,
while the river lay below,
finally consumed. Far away
the voices faded.
He was also a foreigner.
He moved towards the trees,
and taking some leaves
of laurel,
walked through the park.
And I revealed
the mystery
of his still gaze:
in all the places
of the earth,
time traced
in the heart of this young man
signs of death
and solitude.
Francisco Brines