There Are Rivers
We are time. We are that storied
parable from Heraclitus the Obscure:
We are water, not diamonds that endure.
We are lost forever, not merely buried.
We are the river. We are that same
Greek who saw his figure
changing in the water of a changing mirror,
in crystal shifting like a flickering flame.
We are the vain river that flows to the sea.
We are predetermined. Shadows hold us in their sway.
Everything says goodbye. Everything goes away.
Memory doesn’t mint its own currency.
And yet, there is something in us that remains.
And yet, there is something in us that complains.
Jorge Luis BorgesTranslated from Spanish by Paul Weinfield, © 2013