The island creature seems,
I don't know why, a different kind of creature.
If she's a flower, roots don't
hold her down; if she's a bird, her body
The island creature floats
forever on a sea that surrounds but cannot
The island's rivers are nimbler
than others. The island's stones seem
She is all wind and clear
water. A memory of salt, of lost horizons, pierces
The ancients called all that
was not island Terra Firma, while the island is
(Spanish: Poema CI ) from the book Poemas sin nombre (1953). Permission to provide this deep link, courtesy of the Biblioteca Virtual Miguel de Cervantes of the Universidad de Alicante in Alicante, Spain.
Translation by Judith Kerman. First published in Dulce María Loynaz: A Woman in Her Garden (Selected Poems), White Pine Press, 2002.