… The light returns in silken lines.
You close your hand and see the gesture appear,
not furious, no, quiet and circumspect; you open your hand
and so everything comes to be:  like the wave’s ludic mishap,
the line that knows disaster, that returns,
sparks with light and recollection, auscultates. 

– Ángel Escobar. excerpt from Collection

translated by Kristin Dykstra