Perhaps It Was the Guitar

                                                                              Juan Antonio Ibañez

   for Francisco Manuel Díaz

   guitarrero señor:

 

It was the guitar.

Made with the rhythm of the sky.

The murmur of the cypress,

                                        gave it voice

a sacred branch that,

                                        without being it,

guards a great mystery.

 

How can the word

born of an instrument

speak sentiments?

 

The guitar disappeared

and silence fell.

––––Translation by Jeffrey Johnson