||| POSTED AT REQUEST OF ORCASONIAN READER |||

Primero de Enero

Octavio Paz
translated by Elizabeth Bishop

The year’s doors open
like those of language
toward the unknown.
Last night you told me: tomorrow
we shall have to think up signs,
sketch a landscape, fabricate a plan
on the double page
of day and paper.
Tomorrow, we shall have to invent,
once more,
the reality of this world.

 

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