Between Paris and Irún

After years of exile
without papers
a Basque couple wanted
to die within their own borders.

The body’s ruin, blindness
awkward hands, shabby clothes
prevented them leaving the country
that had consumed
like burning wood on a hearth
the vitality and strength of their lives.

In a corner of the longest train
you’ve ever been on
an old couple were dying of anxiety.

They no longer spoke their language
they didn’t understand the rhythm of your lives.

They came from a past, between two wars,
of concentration camps, invasions
and the sale of hands to the highest bidder.

Between Paris and Irún
the ashes you preserved
of what is known – among us –
as hope
were left behind.

Traslated from Spanish by Rowena Hill