Como la eternidad que Dios habita | Poesía [ES/EN]

Finales de junio.
Estabas en el jardín
a la espera de un pretexto.
Yo,
cultivando flores blancas en Varsovia,
perdido en los callejones de la Pound
con la intención de verte.
Ahora,
estoy solo,
entierro el primer tulipán,
vacío,
como la eternidad
que Dios habita.

¡Muchas gracias por tu visita!

Late June.
You were in the garden
waiting for an excuse.
I,
cultivating white flowers in Warsaw,
lost in the alleys of the Pound
intending to see you.

Now,
I am alone,
burying the first tulip,
empty,
like the eternity
that God inhabits.

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