The way paved by Kafka,
I encourage everyone to carry out their own metamorphosis.
Choose whatever you like:
I choose to be a book,
a book 182 centimeters tall,
as tall and pulsing as a tree,
eager for an index finger on my chest
or for the wind to ruffle my leaves,
lying in a field,
or to hear people exclaim:
My God, look at that book,
the one passing by.
To cross my legs and read a verse by Molina
at the bottom of my page, catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror
and read a verse by Sabines,
and, at the end of the day, for a woman
to stretch out over my open pages and read
the most ancient lessons of love.
Translated by Katherine M. Hedeen