running water
yes, i move, i live, i wander astray -
water running, intermingling, over the sands.
i know the passionate pleasure of motion;
i taste the forests; i touch strange lands.
yes, i move - perhaps i am seeking
storms, suns, dawns, a place to hide.
what are you doing here, pale and polished -
you, the stone in the path of the tide?
by alfonsina storni (1892 - 1938)
translated from spanish by muna lee
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