Robert Creeley (1926-2005)

Instantaneas

4

If one look back
or thinks to look
in that uselessly opaque direction,
little enough's ever there.

Wath is it one stares into,
thinks still to recover
as it all fades out-
mind's vagary!

I call to you brutally.
I remember the day we met
I remember how you sat, impatient
to get out.

Back is not direction...
Tout passe?
Life is the river
we´ve carried with us.

6

I could not compare you to anything.
You were not like rhubard
or cleans sheets -or, dear as is might be,
sudden rain in the street.