We present this work in honor of the 55th anniversary of the poet’s death.

 

I love you, old tree, because day and night
you generate mysteries and fate
in the voices of evening wind
or birds at dawn.

You adorn the main square
and your thoughts are more divine
than human ideas as you point us toward roads
with proud branches full of sound.

Jenísaro, all your old scars
are inscribed in your folios
the way time falls and keeps falling.
But your fresh and joyous leaves
sway in the highest reaches of infinity,
while humanity makes its way ahead.

Translation by Steven F. White