Crossing a countryside
The thing that goes under can bethe bucket, dropping to the bottom
of the well:
and it will come back with fresh water–
which we can drink
with happiness or sadness–
sometimes they are, the one and the other, the same—:
one can die of laughter or wailing:
so say the ones who aren’t frenzied—
but we will drink water from the bucket
that dropped to the bottom of the well;
then we’ll think about death,
blessings, sadness—:
now, let’s drink.
Poems by Ángel Escobar
Translated by Kristin Dykstra
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