Ana Minga

Dogs of Tobacco—V

When wild animals awake
they want to feed upon immortals without children,
see the pencil of the blind man,
feel the embrace that must have come
with those old balsa rafts.

regaining life
they tell their tales in jaw-breaking whispers
weave braids of corn silk
sew tight the womb of a fig.

They leave nothing in peace
they break everything
they wreck our blood
and as a project for the moribund
they revive them
only to bite them shortly after on the femur.

Sometimes they offer to accept our prayers
but for sure
when they awake
their teeth are boiling in a sickened mouth.

— translated from the Portuguese by Alexis Levitin