High Treason, a poem by Jose Emilio Pacheco, translated from the Spanish by Alistair Reid.
I do not love my country. Its abstract lustre
Is beyond my grasp.
But (although it sounds bad) I would give my life
For ten places in it, for certain people,
Seaports, pinewoods, fortresses,
A rundown city, gray, grotesque,
Various figures from its history
Mountains
(And three or four rivers).
Provided By Lin Solomons
Photo By Peter Marshall