"Everyone needs one untranslatable song."——Juarroz

    On hearing the striped contralto of guinea fowl，

    its mock opera quivers the parsley atop its head——

    The song makes its imprint

    in the air， making itself felt，

    a felt world. Here， there，

    the stunned silence

    of knowing I will not remember

    what I heard；

    futures that will never happen，

    a fluidity we cannot achieve

    except as a child

    creating possibility.

    This is the untranslatable song

    hidden in the earth.