The screens of Fatima


Horacio Quiroga


Fog and landscape. Vacant hemisphere

Which marks a lyrical planisphere;

Night of nights and the Zafirs

On the route of the fakirs;

Blue moon in the offing

With the turquoises of his romance;

Sky that feathers as it sees fit

With the chimera of delayed flights:

In the desert of crazy glories

Where the trajectories narrow.

The mists in the mirages

Its tasteless guipur lace.

Indecisive light of an asteroid

On the black ellipsoid spot

And there is a Dead Sea behind the mist,

Like a drop of Chinese ink.


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