MY FATHER

My father went and came back through the flames...
Among the sleepers ands the rails
of a sattion swarming with flies and dust
One afternoon whe gathered up his pieces
I was never able to speak with him
I find now in dreams.
That half-erased country of the dead

Octavio Paz,mexican poet
On the tragic death of his father suffered in a train wreck in 1935
Translation of Francis ,Steen
English Department,University of California

Image:Train dans la Neige Monet