Mistral translated

[forsweatervests]

Tres Árboles in translation

Three Trees

by Gabriela Mistral
in translation by forsweatervests

Three fallen trees
left at the forest’s horizon
the woodcutter forgot them, and they whisper
of love, like three blind men.

The setting sun infuses
their split flanks with life-blood
and the winds carry the fragrance
of their gaping sides.

One of them, gnarled, spreads
his enormous arm.  The foliage trembles
and his wounds
are like two pleading eyes.

The woodcutter forgot them.  Night
will fall.  And I will stay with them.
I will fill my heart with their calming
sap.  I will be reborn in their flames.
And silent, together,
we pass the day in a swell of pain.