Marta Pessarrodona Poems

I do not know if under an adverse god
I began to write…

(I do not know if there is still dust
on your poems,
...

Ever since, without your latent,
we have all been, more or less,
half nun and half harlot,
half cloistered, half streetwalker.
...

I see you in an old photograph:
you were young and beautiful
and you held the poet, then
an infant, in your arms.
...

It had exactly your eyes. What were you trying to tell me?
...

I knew that you could,
despite a lot of things,
always explain to us
fragments of what we wanted.
...

Just as the priest of the Mallorcan islands said:
keep scanning the horizon for things to come.
Beyond the 'Atlàntida', a woman poet averred
that through the past as well there is a road.
...

Undeniably, my luck was now running out
and my salad days were withering.

Had my writing been a failure?
Had it all been an illusion?
...