That plum tree

There are jasmines in all these gardens.

I remember that plum tree that blossomed

In every breezy and clear spring.

The plum tree that sheltered birds.

The same one, under whose gentle shade,

As young children, we used to play.

Those jasmines are still there,

But the plum tree is no longer there, it withered,

Already many, so many years ago.

But it is still alive in our memory,

which accommodates presences, now absent.

Antonio Las Heras, Argentina

Translation Germain Droogenbroodt