Our sisters wear multicoloured garments,
our sisters stand near the water and sing,
our sisters sit on rocks and wait,
they have water and air in their baskets
and call it flowers.
But I throw my arms around a cross and cry.
I was once as soft as a sap green leaf
and hung high in the blue air,
when two blades were crossed inside me
and a victorious master led me to his lips.
His hardness was so tender that I didn’t break,
he fastened a shining star on my brow
and left me trembling with tears
on an island called winter. –