The Red River

The red river

I was a girl,
and they did not notice me,

when it all began
I, being frightened, left for the other shore,
alongside the pomegranate tree,
from there I saw how disguised men
broke the drums, the flutes
and the violins over their knees,

one of them laughed so savagely,
that I started to bleed from the left ear,
then, once all the instruments were destroyed,
they started with the scores and the musicians.

At one moment I must have lost consciousness,
my blood dyed the river the color of the pomegranate tree.
Later when I awoke,
all of the city had been reduced to silence,
and I had turned
into the red river that had seen the music die.

--Julia Otxoa. Translation by Kelly Burke.