Blindness
(for Jorge Luis Borges)

(Verbimi)

You will die one day, dear Jorge,
One night, all alone and forgotten!
Have you not felt condemned for years now,
For years now to dream in the dark, bereft of your sight?
The Divine Comedy you read with your fingers,
You bathe in the dust of forgotten cities,
Like string you bind feeling and memory in a knot
Compelling the expanses of time to embrace.
You will die one night, dear Jorge,
One day, all alone and forgotten,
At the most you will be a pinch of dust
Borne by the winds to the deserts of Arabia.
Your labyrinth is the invention of solitude
A trap which seizes misery by the throat.
Have you not felt for years now, poor Jorge,
Condemned to dream in the dark?