Asomé mi cabeza a la
ventana
como la asomé mil
veces,
mirando a la gente apresurandose
a coger la guagua, que
ya es la hora
de cenar.
Y me puse a pensar,
como me puse a pensar
mil veces,
¿"Por qué esta parada de guagua
no tiene numero como las demás?"
Pero la hora era de la cena,
y la pregunta se quedaba
en el aire,
hasta
convertirse
en niebla.
Y como mil veces,
comí la cena en aquella repisa,
entre macetas de yerba buena
que ahí colocaron imagenes
fantasmagoricas; sin fachas, ni manos,
ni pies.
¡ Pero perfumes, sí tuvieron !
siempre los tuvieron;
de jardines,y de prados;
de un
alma
honesto.
By John Johnson
December 2007
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
English
I stuck my head out from the
Window,
As I'd done
A thousand times,
Gazing at the people, hurrying
To catch
The bus, for it is now
Time
For dinner.
And I began to think, as I'd begun
To think
A thousand times,
"Why doesn't this bus-stop
Have a number
Like the rest?"
But it was dinner time
And the question floated
In the air,
Until it turned into
A mist.
And like a thousand times before,
I ate my dinner in that window-sill,
Among flowering pots of fresh mint
Which were placed there by images
Phantasmagoric; without faces, hands
Or feet.
But perfumes! Yes such perfume!
There was always perfume!
Of gardens, of meadows,
Of an honest
Soul.
Adding your comment:
Yo me senté allí, tratando a comprender por qué tú dirías algo como eso, y no pude resolverlo. 
Around here, areas in the Westen portion of the country are usually said to be "out" somewhere. For instance, you're out in Nevada. 
Hope you're doing just great. How's retirement going for you so far? 
