Стихотворение Хуаны де Ибарбуру Running Water (на английском языке).


This water that comes
through the dark nerves of piping,
to give its pure freshness to my house
and the gift of cleanliness every day.

This bubbling water
that the faucet bestows,
this swelling of deep mystery
from the river bed, the wind and grass.

I view with envious impatience
this traveling wave that is my sister,
that has come to the big city
from some distant unknown meadow.

And halted before this open faucet
sprinkling my apron with beads,
I feel upon me the loving look
of a thousand clear eyes of water.

Translated by Carlos Reyes