Translated from the Spanish by H. E. Francis
It is night that drives
its dogs to bark,
that to their jaws grants
no repose.
Howls lap the pane
of the window of sleep.
Howls spatter
their poison over my agitation.
And my sleep no longer desires more night,
its banners summon forth the dawn,
blankets adorned with a thousand flowers,
sudden spring, delight
of flint breaking against flint,
exaltation of very old voices.
And what the dogs howl,
the slime on their tongues, their agony,
night will silence,
deadened in my blackest lights.
Emiliano De Lucas