Anabel Caride

Strawberries Without Cream

 

Today I am only going to eat your kisses:

none of Tuesday’s gray faces.
Your mouth between knife and fork while we eat dinner.
Forbidden to leave the table
before cleaning your plate.
You can have more.
The dinner guest should not forget
to visit the kitchen
to compliment the cook:
she will know how to thank him in her own way.

 

 


Translated by Curtis Bauer
“Strawberries Without Cream” is from Tinta en el almanaque (Ink On The Almanac) (Editorial Moreno Mejías, 2008).

 

You can read and listen to the poem in the original Spanish here.