Everyone needs one untranslatable song.Juarroz

On hearing the striped contralto of guinea fowl^1，

its mock opera quivers the parsley aTOP its head

The song makes its imprint²

in the air， making itself felt，

a felt world. Here， there，

the stunned^{3 silence}

of knowing I will not remember

what I heard；

futures^{4 that will never happen，}

a fluidity we cannot achieve

except as a child

creating possibility.

This is the untranslatable song

hidden in the earth.