(Child of Light)
You are dawn, wife, the main shadow, get ajar
hours of your forehead.
Determined to glare, but ajar, lights
your body. Your bowels forge the rising sun.
clarities Center, the great hour
waits on the threshold of a fire that burns the fire itself: I hope you
, bent like wheat to the threshing
placing in the center light our house.
Night detached from dark wells,
immersed in wells where it has taken root.
And you open the birth of light, between walls that tear
you as stone matrix.
The great time of delivery, the roundest Time:
clocks explode feeling you scream,
open all doors in the world, the aurora, and
sun rises in your belly, where he found his nest.
The son was first sewn clothing
shade to your heart deep deep from your hands.
clothes with shadows and anticipated his life,
with shadows and human germs clothes.
Shadows and clothes without people, deserted town
have a child of sound, movement,
in our house makes wide the doors,
And she cries occupies the light seat.
Oh, life: how beautiful grieve so near death!
Shadows and clothes brought the child to name them.
Shadows and clothes worn by men throughout the world.
And everyone always leave shadows and dark clothes.
Son of dawn you, son of noon.
and must be lights around you imposed
while your mother and I are dying,
asleep and awake to love her back.
speak, and my heart goes in your breath.
If not talk so much I want to drown me.
resins with lavender and perfume your room.
You are the dawn, my wife. I am noon.
(Child of light and shadow)
Fabrics at dawn, engraving, two combs
can not stop the honey on your nipples.
Your breasts at dawn: maternal springs
fight and run over with white effusions.
have been overwhelmed, wife, moles your veins,
to flood the house exudes your taste.
It is as if from a village of beehive, you
a whole hive of milk foam.
is as if your blood was all sweetness, busy bees
filtered through your pores.
I hear a cry for milk, flood,
wedding with you, traveled streaming audio.
mighty woman in your womb I bury myself.
Your mighty belly will be my grave.
If you burn my bones with iron flame,
there would be that I recorded your figure.
cast forever in the child stay:
as long to cast our anxieties voracious:
in a bunch of time, blood, the two branches,
in a beam of caresses, hair, the two beams.
The dead, frozen in a fire that burns,
beat with the living in a stubborn.
child comes to occupy the fields and the house
abandon you and I are close by.
We will make this generating child support,
and will of our flesh
crucial matter where settle his soul, hands and breath, moving propellers
, agriculture alive.
He will make this life does not fall demolished,
bit detached from our two pieces,
that our two mouths made only
sword and two everlasting arms of our four branches.
in you do not want you alone: \u200b\u200bI want you on your ancestry
and as your belly will drop tomorrow.
Because humans have given me an inheritance,
the child's family is the human species.
With love on his back, asleep and awake,
continue deep kissing the child.
kissing you and I are kissing our dead,
kiss the first inhabitants of the world.
Zorro Corredero
Photos: Photo Gallery Pedro Alfonso
Photos: Photo Gallery Pedro Alfonso
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