The knittings of Bachué/Manuel Felipe Álvarez-Galeano

To look the river made of time and water

and remember that the time is another river,

to know that we get lost like the river

and that the faces cross like the water

Jorge Luis Borges

Rivers are messengers

that carries the upheaval portrait of every face

uiums and whistles of the laundresses

down to the confluences of Bachué

knitting the veils that dress the sea

the more murky and corrupted the river

the less can knits the reflections

and get drown the transparent side

that traces the silhouette

on the steps of those lovers

that get kiss in the                             ridges

this music is a shout of rebellion

that the stones hoist

in homage to the fishes

slaughtered by the mercury

is the cry of hoarse elderly women

that don’t rest

till some kind of abandon

let them sleep in the                                      banks

some rivers are witness 

of human ignominy

they carry the obligation of hiding crimes evidences

and keep downhearted in the depths

silences of anonymous corpses

that lie a stone on the chest

and after the tireless pilgrimage

flow into the entrails

the water becomes in oracle

the frigates offers the shadow

to the spectral murmuring

of the shipwrecks

the ghosts become

in confidants

of

the

waves

and the sweating of fishermen

embraces with the tears of gods that die

in the oblivion

Biography