by Eliseo Diego
My soul’s Red Riding Hood, the wolf
lurks in the shadows where no one expects him
and he watches you
from his miserable rock,
his solitude, his enormous hunger.
You ask him: why
are your eyes so big and round? blind, he answers,
“for to see you better,” weeping.
You ask again: why
are your ears so big, and he, “oh music
of the world, to hear you, only
to hear you.” And then
the rest is darkness,
impossible to understand.
Translated from Spanish by Mark Weiss.