I have been asked, respectfully, to translate Cuarto Perdido for those who are not fluent in Spanish. I am more than happy to translate a piece that is not understood in the language in which it was written. It is my duty as a writer to tell you that some meaning will be lost in the translation. This is a given and I trust your intelligence with this matter. Enjoy Lost Room. Title courtesy of Rudy Martinez.
Open the door
On the other side is your mother
Still and quiet
As if she never had a name
Get on your knees and close your eyes
Imagine a desert illuminated by your voice
There is nothing clear and your mouth begs for a drop of water
You look into the distance and you see a grand mirror
The reflection of the sun places you upon your feet
You walk on the sand like a sleepwalking child
There is no pride in what you have found
The mirror falls on its front and a hurricane of fine sand
Becomes embedded in your eyes
In turn you get on your knees with burnt eyes
You fall on your front side like the mirror
Neither your reflection nor your shadow remain loyal
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