César Vallejo

“ There’s the desire to... not to desire. Lord;
it’s you I’m pointing at, with a deicidal finger,
there’s the desire to not have had a heart.
Spring returns, returns and it’ll go away. And God,
curved in time, recurs, and passes: he passes
with the Universe’s spine upon his shoulders.
When, my temples beat their forlorn drum...
when I’m pained by the dream engraved in a dagger,
there’s the desire to remain stuck in this verse.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content. ”