World Literature:
Juan Tajes
(Netherlands)
The Word (Poem)
The word burns, the word freezes,she fire’s paradise, she turns off hell,
Jorge Luis said it, Dante affirmed it
we already know it, is clear, so,
but we don’t practice it,
because we do not dare
to raze with Eden’s and anathemas,
to free us from gods and demons,
to wield the verb like a whip
to flog cunning merchants
that trade with the dream and the hope,
to wield the word like a pen,
like a Bird feather that caresses the air,
calms the pain, relieves the sadness,
a wing that takes us in flight without distance,
and set us down to earth.
A wing that protects us, wing that elevates us.
The word is weapon and is projectile.
The word is shield and is refuge,
has its own meaning and acquired value.
The word guides us, the word deflects us.
The word is a garment
which is hung, which is changed,
that is chosen and gets undone.
The word dresses, the word undresses.
It identifies us, defines us.
The word is face and mask.
The word is change,
is taken, is given,
Is removed and made its own.
The word works the groove of the idea
and germinates in new ideas,
in doubts and certainties.
And when the truth
is not sufficient
to make us free,
yet we have the word
