Egon Schiele, 1890 – 1918
LIKE A BOAT ON A LAKE . . .
THE AFTERNOON slowly passed by
like a boat on a lake of still waters,
on your chest the violets trembled
caressed by a burning breath.
There I murmured to you, near the fountain,
in the park that keeps secret yearnings,
“I am like the miner who respectfully longs
for the veins of your tender affection . . .”
And the peace of the branches was disrupted,
and when you so softly said, “I adore you!”
a fluttering of wings was heard over the gold
of your timid and fervent head,
that anchored that evening, and the night
suddenly stretched out its unfurled wing.
Xavier Villaurrutia, Mexico, 1903 ─ 1950
Translation Germain Droogenbroodt – Stanley Barkan