Pronounce flower, bee, teardrop, bread, storm

Pronounce flower, bee, teardrop, bread, storm.

That the grief of the teardrop can bark up a 
    Storm, that the shrill of your lover's harp
    Could beckon thread, blood, air, art.

I have dreams, I loved, I have earned my silence.

I have glowed in the dark of the sun's recipe
    For day and sinned as penance for climbing out
    Of the guilt that your teardrop bled.

When you learn that I have died, do not pronounce my name.

Do not sing of the meadow nor of the shame that
    Begets a hard silence, the name that flees its 
    Call, the slope that bleeds the rill.
When you learn that I have died, do not pronounce my name
because it will hold back my death and rest.
Your voice, which is the ringing of the five senses,
would be the dim beacon sought by my mist.
When you learn that I have died, whisper strange syllables.
Pronounce flower, bee, teardrop, bread, storm.
Do not let your lips find my eleven letters.
I have dreams, I loved, I have earned my silence.
Do not pronounce my name when you learn that I have died
from the dark earth I would come for your voice.
Do not pronounce my name, do not say my name
When you learn that I have died, do not pronounce my name.
Translation of Roque Dalton‘s poem.