Children of the Sun and Wind
We still live in the corners
between northern and southern seasons.
We still sleep
clutching pillows of stone
as our fathers did.
We follow the same clouds
and rest in the shade of naked shrubs.
We drink our tea in gulps of fire
and walk barefoot not to scare the silence.
And far away
on the slopes of a mirage,
we still watch, each evening,
the sun setting in the sea.
And the same woman who hesitates
before the sentries of dusk
on the center of the map
still greets us.
She greets us and then is lost
in the eyes of the child who smiles
from the lap of eternity.
And still we wait for the new dawn
to start again.
— Mohammed EbnuTranslated from Spanish by Paul Weinfield, © 2013