Mashpi Pania

I am the only molluscle created exclusively

For pleasure. I’m happy to be touched

By the chorokes and their fine wings, their morning song

And their saliva in bloom; with that I am happy

And I wander around the corners spilling orange blossoms,

I raise the tide of the night with my red skirts,

Waving sovereign on the stone cinnamon hill.

I am the only birdcher who sings in a night suit,

Hovering over the undergrowth with my achiote wings,

Sensitive to the breeze that bristles my gostosa rump,

Path of a hundred days in the compass of the burning sun,

Knower of the secrets of the gigantic crickets

And their ancient violin, their voice finer than a drop

Of rain, towards her I go religiously.

I am the only dancevore of the hundred cane fields

That beat their stems with the herons and the green

Tokaris, inhabitant of stagnant and hard lakes,

Sovereign dolphin of infinite waters, towards you

I urge in this hour of total humility, your

Delicate fingers converging in the mud below

From your reed roots, those I aspire, I must suck.

I am the only flag bearer of your hidden dreams,

The one that eats your brain, like a worm, softly

And rich for the tongue of the storm when it rages

The gale that washes everything, the one that heals wounds,

The one that awakens in your mornings the illusion of the day,

Palpo el botón de dicha and it is in full swing, like

This hot broth of shells and boshkis, slightly salty.