Francesc Parcerisas Poems

Thank you, angel. Thank you, demons of the night.
Thank you, winter where the heart burns
arid tree-trunks of desire. Thank you,
...

What thrived in the tree still lingers,
for everything that was remains.
Rather like the resting hand
that murmurs: come.
...

Thick flakes of snow fall, hushing everything,
hushing the girl who's left the cemetery,
hushing the earth that fails to realize
it's the earth of a graveyard,
...

I sit in the Egyptian room in the museum
and hear the honeyed buzzing of the bees.
The past is with us, now: yellow and blue,
like the wheat the labourer is threshing, or that stork
...

The battle's slow and sinuous,
a stormy fire on the hilltops.
The enemy's spears and darts
...