Presence
Someday I'll know. This body that has been
my dwelling place, my prison, my hospital, is my tomb.
This that I drew together around a dream,
a pain, a memory,
will give way in search of water, the leaf,
the original spore, and even the inert and the stone.
This knot that I was (inextricable
from anger, betrayals, hopes,
sudden glimmers of light, impetuosity,
hunger, cries of fear and helplessness
and joy illuminating the darkness
and words and love and love and loves)
will be cut apart by the years.
No one will see the destruction. None
will gather up the unfinished pages.
Among the handful of disparate acts,
blown about by chance, none will be
set apart like a precious pearl.
And nevertheless, brother, lover, child,
friend, forefather,
there is no solitude, no death
though I may forget and I may come to an end.
Fellowman, wherever you are, wherever you live
there we shall all remain.
Rosario Castellanos
Another Way To Be - Selected works of Rosario Castellanos
Edited/translated by Myralyn F. Allgood
