Llano 12-18

                                                                               

    In my dream as I fly over churning mud

        I recognise the Finca de San Martin hidden    

         on Avila’s folds where it was said that

          Paez in between battles met his mistress

on the very same bench we met.  

   I was told by the caretaker of the Finca,

 that in colonial times a Countess was         

           exiled in there with her slaves.            

 In my innocence I prattled on about my encounters

and you feigned indifference until I told you he become my lover.

Then you walked pass me in the street without a word.

 I turn to gaze at your retreating back and like

 Lot’s wife turned to a pillar of salt….

Time stood still, blood did not flow

And with this act you took back all you brought from the Llano.

The endless azure of its sky, the din of the cicadas at dusk,

The viper tender in your hand, the nigh cry of the jabali.

anaconda’s long sleep in the grass,

Llanero’s hunt for the jaguar and jaguar’s stalk of him .

     As I descended into that red mud,

I remembered all but your name.

                                                                                                      

                                                                 Antonia Baranov