Saturday, July 9, 2011

Triunfo Arciniegas / Grandfather

El señor del sombrero
Medellín, 2011
Photography by Triunfo Arciniegas

Triunfo Arciniegas
Translated from Spanish by C.D. Hernández

In his old age
he washed his eyes
with rose petal water.

Took naps
under the shade of a tree
and he would tell us stories
about horses lost in the fog
of deer trembling in water
of a house that burned all night.

"Time passes
like a ball of fire "
he once said.

The shadow of
his hat on his face
the ember of snuff,
the palm of his hand on my shoulder.

With a dry blow on the neck
he would send rabbits
to another world.

Garlic fasting
and a chair in the patio,
the secrets of my old man.

For my birthday
he opened the trunk,
his world,
he chose something
and judging by the way he held it
I understood that it was something he loved
a colorful top
which I still I have.

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