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Today to me my body seems
a recollection of me.
It’s not my memory
that lives in my forehead,
but my whole body
which is huddled
within it, among the clouds,
waiting for the death of oblivion.
I’m now more than me.
I shaped my surroundings,
wrapped my soul around me,
abandoned the life of men.
I want to forget my body,
would like it to sleep within me.
Its external dreams
will flood my spirit.
Foreign populations,
new gods,
different elements,
surround it.
I’m dictating words
to the one I was in the world,
who believes he detains me
under his watchful eye,
the one I’m bossing about,
the one who writes this story.


Manuel Altolaguirre
Translation by John Lyons

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