Zeno’s Tortoise: (In quietude, velocity sleeps)
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Closed doors attract the outdoors. Trace traced on the centipede and a little of logos on the shelle. As it passes the parallels ponder goes the gust with a howling gale, goes so that life will not notice. The happy remorse of reason. A quickness as when the moon emerges whilst the thirst said don’t wait, said be of others, not of yourself, nor so much now. Go on, last soul of the galapago, as already the nacre’d weight croaks, a land of skin apart now from others. It was the joy of the undue day, from which if then they were all. Thursday? Although they may say so, it was Monday. It was rather some time around then. The audacious use of similarity made blindly, what it saves ceded to its race the stoughourness of feeling cultured, sacred in truce for the favourite giving an opportunity to the footslip, to the poor paw with paltry Plato. A case of little longitude and hassle at the mercy of the close correct creature (close that it seems to be so near). He was going like one who goes until the idea. He was going well enough until feeling, on the temple, musics of velocity. Pre-socratics as is [End Page 226] the custom saw him roll midst enthreaded suspicions to the tars that were emptying his plan. Of ancestry, equal to the leopard? Flight from the air, almost so solitary: slow from darknesses for the verve, he continued until leaving the name. Stopping, he felt himself Achilles.
—translated from the Spanish by Ben Bollig [End Page 227]
Eduardo Espina, a native of Uruguay, is a professor in the Department of Hispanic Studies at Texas A&M University (College Station). He is co-editor of Hispanic Poetry Review, the only journal in the world that is dedicated exclusively to the criticism and review of poetry written in Spanish. He is author of several books of essays and poems, the most recent of the latter being Mínimo de mundo visible (2003) and El cutis patrio (2006).
