by Rafael Alberti (Translated by Christopher Sawyer-Lauçanno)
Someone behind you, at your back,
sealing your eyes with words.
Behind you, bodiless,
souless.
Smoky voice of dream,
cut.
Smoky voice,
cut.
With words, false glass.
Blind, down a tunnel of gold,
of evil mirrors,
you'll meet up
with death underground.
You there alone, with death,
underground.
And someone behind you, at your back,
always.