Déjame estar / Guillermo Sucre

Let me be


Let me be among those rocks, big sponges hardened at the edge of the sea. The piercing hour of midday pulsing with the spines. It’s not the crown of repose, the wing of repose you sift over your forehead. Happiness is savage now. With the color of our skin we’ve become cruel. Hostile and dominant like the Sun.

Dispossessed. In the penury of our drowsiness we consume, however, the season’s fire. The bird that ferments in the pride of the seas liberates our desire. These waters lick your body, they smudge it. Later on it radiates in the constellations of your dream.

Coin spent in the commerce of the ports; ridiculous metal, burning the hands of the poor; a sound that resonates as crime in the night of the suburbs; curse of heroes and saints:

                                                                                That’s how I say our love shines
                                                                                and devours itself on these coasts.




La mirada (1970)




{ Guillermo Sucre, Conversación con la intemperie. Seis poetas venezolanos, selección y prólogo de Gustavo Guerrero, Barcelona, España: Galaxia Gutenberg/Círculo de Lectores, 2008 }