Witchcraft

poem by Ruth Salles

I live on the other side of the lake,
neither deep nor shallow,
neither on the surface nor on the shore,
not in the center...
I make my trip
on the wing beyond the wind,
without direction or time.
I went where I didn't find it,
Before I left, I came back...

stole
my moonlight shawl
that the moon made to descend into the sea,
and in the exact measure
that goes from the horizon to the forest.

I live on the other side of the lake,
neither deep nor shallow,
neither on the surface nor on the shore,
not in the center...
I make my trip
on the wing on the other side of the wind;
on the opposite side of the breath,
I blow the web of speech
when the shadow is silent...

wet
sun skirt bar,
that was dragging the day
on the riverbank.
I wet it well…
The soaked bar wrapped itself around the star-king,
and what i know
is that, drip-drip, the sun in the sky blinked
and almost went out!

I live on the other side of the lake,
neither deep nor shallow,
neither on the surface nor on the shore,
not in the center...
I make my trip
on the wing on the other side of the wind;
on the argent wave,
I roll on the sunken beach,
that is equal, different…

***