There’s a Wind Without Leaves

 

There’s a wind without leaves- perhaps with words-

with lilac sounds, that I hear within me.

 

Scarcely with body it occurs between gusts,

and conflicting signs conceal its speaking.

 

In those resplendent voices where color bursts,

the world’s watercolor draws their profile.

 

One must search its rhythm between slow nights

and their effigy, in the liquid music of a garden.

 

But if you don’t find it, a world without us

and that wind without leaves will always be there.

 

Who might hear it may also gather

the memory that I am of that leaf

and the recollection that I am of that garden.

 

Both are in the wind without leaves

that with lilac sounds today grazes me

waiting for someone to gather them

and place them again with me.

 

-Jaime Siles (translated by Miles Waggener)

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