Río

RIVER (1929)

Evaristo Ribera Chevremont

River you have wetted
trees and stones.
River–silver thread
in the green field.
From the snowy peak
from light, you come, river.
River you’re capsized
by the other river
without joining waters.
River, you are myself.
I approach other men,
but never join
my soul to theirs.
River, you go lightly
with your silent voices,
stealing things
your expression and essence.
You drink the sky
with your white clouds.
You lack a way
by which to feel
in the sea: you’re nothing.
Like you, I hope
to feel myself in my nothing.
My nothing is the earth.