One of the ways

of making 40 year old poems seem freshly minted is to see them in translation.

I recently sent Ernesto Priego some bits & pieces, including The right foot of the giant, a selection of my poems from 1959 to 1975. He has translated one of them, For M., which dates from around 1965. I've posted part of it below. The full translation can be found at Never Neutral.

Gracias, amigo.

1
Montañas emergen
de aguas frías. La música, el
sonido creciendo en gritos
de asombro repentinos. Malhumorado. Esta
noche no es la mía.

from: Para M

(The photo of Lake Wanaka is taken from the website of Owen Baxter.)