Plutôt oiseau que pájaro
The title of this poem, as well as the idea from
which it began, comes from the book Le Pas Si
Lent de L’Amour, by Hector Bianciotti.
In his nest the French oiseau withdraws,
whilst the Spanish pájaro – arrow –
breaks the edges of the air and flies,
losing himself, without a country, in peace –
he builds in the four corners of the vast world
nests to be abandoned to others
when the beyond – a mirage – draws him.
( it’s in the desert of the nest that the oiseau finds his oasis.)
However much I make myself an arrow,
I withdraw when I get to the end.
I’m a migrating bird,
but never migrate from myself.