There beside the crosses, small and black
like anchors cast into that final bay,
the names of those who died today
lie there, horizontal,
the way the dead themselves will.
Nearby, on an indifferent piece of paper,
my own name, now enormous, does a caper.
Alfonsina Storni: Avisos fúnebres
Al lado de pequeños cruces negras
—Anclas echadas en finales puertos—
Yacen los nombres de los muertos
Del día, horizontales
Como muertos reales.
Enorme ahora, sobre el papel frío,
Junto a las cruces bailotea el mío.
Nicholas Friedman is the author of Petty Theft, winner of The New Criterion Poetry Prize. A former Wallace Stegner Fellow and Jones Lecturer at Stanford University, he is also the recipient of a Ruth Lilly Fellowship from the Poetry Foundation. He lives with his wife and son in Syracuse.
Also by Nicholas Friedman (see all)
- Black Swallow-Wort - September 21, 2022
- Gravity - September 21, 2022
- Painter of Light™ - September 21, 2022