The Deserted Sandals
Around each 5th of January
Each January I used to place
My goatherd shoes
By the cold window.
And the days went by
The ones which knock doors down
My empty sandals
My deserted sandals.
I never had shoes,
Suits-clothes or words
I always had streams
Always sorrow and goats.
Poverty dressed me up
The river licked my entire body
And from head to toe
The dew fed on me.
Around the 5th of January
I wanted for the 6th
The whole world to be a
Toyshop.
And when walking at dawn
And working in my orchard
My empty sandals
My deserted sandals.
Never a crowned king
Intended or feel like
Seeing my shoes
By my humble window.
Everyone with a throne,
Everyone in boots
Laughed loudly
At my broken sandals.
I cried with anger
Until my skin was covered in salt
By a materialistic world
Of shallow people.
Around the 5th of January
From my shelter
My goatherd shoes
Out went again in the frost.
And around the 6th of January
People found by their front doors
My frozen sandals
My deserted sandals.
Translation by Carlota Morales Virgili
Poemas sueltos IV
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