The Disappeared

Everardo Norões (translated by Paul Webb)

Their bodies did not yet number
among the ranks of the disappeared:
there were no bruises,
no blue blotches on the skin,
no cut lips,
no evidence of pus.
Their groans
were mere whispers:
martyrs’ leaves
kept behind closed walls.

There were no broken arm-bones,
no collar-bones corroded by acid,
in some far-off yard;
no supine corpses
uncovered for the camera lens.

Their bodies did not yet number
among the ranks of the disappeared:
their names were not yet etched
in the style they are now;
nor did newspaper pages
enwrap their silent memoirs.

(It was cold out
& pomegranates were not yet in season.
Bread and oil
on the table.
The bedside lamp
always on).

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