An attempt at a poem in Spanish - El Norte Viento en la Primavera No hay sol hoy y el gran vientodesde el norte se niegacualquier feliz ideade la primavera. Escuchar,en el viento fri oigoel...
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Adrift in Paradise
7 March 2010
Puerto Escondido, Baja California Sur, Mexico
What strange creatures we are: adrift in paradise, and thoroughly squeezed by terrors.
I had a terrible dream last night. Like a 1940s movie, it unspooled in black and white. A cityscape. Long sidewalks, skyscrapers, busy people, cars, and buses that somehow tilted into intersections, their back ends raised over the sidewalks.
In my dream there had been a warning, a rumour that sometimes these back ends lowered without warning and pedestrians were crushed by them.
I paid no attention to this information really; I thought the tale was a myth meant to scare its listeners.
And then there I was on the sidewalk, waiting to cross the street. The back end of a bus hovered over me and I jumped aside, but not quickly enough. It lowered, lowered onto me.
Help! I cried, help! but the rattle of the bus and the rest of the traffic made my voice inaudible.
Slowly slowly--but I could not move quickly enough to extricate myself--my back was crushed by the weight of the bus.
In the last shot, I'd disappeared.
8 March 2010 Puerto Escondido
This morning I dream some one has handed me two sheets of paper. They are folded--this is a letter of some sort.
I open it expectantly, eagerly--there is a message here I want to understand.
But before I get to the first word, I awaken.