La vida

es una burla contínua

a nuestra ingenuidad.


THE ORCHARD, poem by Beatriz Iriart

To Raul Zeleniuk's memory


At the orchard
Have bloomed seven 
Of your "incipient ladies of the night"
Seven were their screams
Seven are the memories
Seven your deaths
And your "incipient ladies of the night"
Bring seven lives
When the sun goes down,
And I

© Beatriz Iriart
Translation from Spanish by 
Olga Y. Mancinelli

Obra:  Susy Dembo