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
Await.
© Beatriz Iriart
Translation
from Spanish by
Olga Y. Mancinelli
