LXXXVI TO MY VULTURE

This ravenous vulture with its grim brow
that fiercely devours my entrails
and is my only constant companion
carves my sorrows with its hooked beak.

On the day it is its turn to drain the last draught
of my black blood, I want
you to leave me with it alone and solitary
for a moment, with no one in the way.

For I want, making my death throes a triumph
while it swallows my last remains,
to catch in its eyes the sombre

look on seeing the fate that threatens it
without this prey on which it used to sate
the dreadful hunger that is never quenched.

S. 26 X 10.