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The deserted sandals - Miguel Hernández


(Courtesy of VicenteMonera )

By January 5,

each January

put my shoes goatherd

the cold window .

And were the days, they shatter

doors,

my sandals empty, deserted

my sandals.

never had shoes,

or costumes, no words:

always had rivulets,

long sentences and goats.

I dressed poverty

licked my body the river,

and standing at the head

grass was dew.

By January 5,

for six

I wanted to be the world

a toy.

And the dawn walk

removing

orchards,

my sandals without anything, my sandals

deserted.

No

was crowned king standing, had won

to see the shoes of my poor

window.

throne

All people, all people

boot

laughed bitterly

of my broken sandals.

Rabi weeping, salt

cover my skin,

pasta for a world of men

and honey.

By January 5,

of my flock my shoes goatherd

the frost out.

And to the six

my eyes were on their doors

frost my sandals, my sandals

deserted.