Una epifanía
Yo he visto a la solitaria araña parda
correr con una red en la mano, o mejor dicho,
algo parecido a una red, algo parecido a una mano.
Corría por el reluciente suelo blanco de la bañera,
dejando un frágil remolino de pelo
y en él yacía entretejido el casco
de un escarabajo. El pelo era de mi esposa
largo y oscuro, algunos mechones sueltos, un rulo
que debe haber girado distraídamente sobre un dedo,
pudo haberse enroscado distraídamente, hablándome a mí
y las patas del cangrejo estaban rotas.
An Epiphany
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BY TED KOOSER
I have seen the Brown
Recluse Spider
run with a net in her hand,
or rather,
what resembled a net, what
resembled
a hand. She ran down the
gleaming white floor
of the bathtub, trailing a
frail swirl
of hair, and in it the hull
of a beetle
lay woven. The hair was my
wife’s,
long and dark, a few loose
strands, a curl
she might idly have turned
on a finger,
she might idly have
twisted, speaking to me,
and the legs of the beetle
were broken.
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