Yo Como Tu (I, like you) by -Roque Dalton (Translated M.L. Vega)

I, like you,

Love love, life, the sweet delight

of things, blue sceneries

in the days of January

Also, my blood swarms and I laugh through the eyesthat have recognized the outburst of tears.

I believe the world is beautiful,

that poetry is like bread, it belongs to everyone.

And that my veins don’t end inside me,

but in the unanimous blood of

those who fight for life,

love,

things,

landscapes and the bread;

Everyone’s poetry.

Arbol (Tree) by Claudia Lars (translated M.L.Vega)

The tree stands, in the silence,               

sleeps profoundly

and at last touches the white borders

of the clouds of June

The tree copies the colors

of the world's light

and repeats them and bestows them

in the leaves and buds.

The tree rocks--everlasting child--

its fragrant swings

and rehearses voices and whistles

in perfect ensemble.

Disguises its strength with the soft

fuzz of moss;

stores the music in whisper

of the occult dens.

Holds up leafs of pride;

filters in the piece, the virtues

of sap and extract.

Breaks the fog of winter

with its sharped fingers;

stops the blue zephyr of air

and returns more pure.

Warps the rustling foliage

--eaves of shelter--

and opens the doors to the traveler

in sunlight and in full moon.

Captures in its crevices the buzzes

of the yellow honeycombs;

allows its riches to be looted

by dark insects.

Signals the place that wandering birds cannot find;

sustains the anxiety of their strand in the hazy flight.

Precisely there -- true joy,

song of the profound!--

ties the dream of infinity

with the inner-depths of the world.