(November 21, 1925-January 19, 1999)
This is a translation of a poem written by Pedro Tamayo of Tungual, Peru, and published in the magazine, La Voz Eterna, July-August 2002.
Like a bird that spreads his wings from his nest
and soars in lonely spaces
so he came to distant and dangerous places.
On rustic slopes and steep hills,
under the mended roofs of the forgotten
he lay down to rest,
and with tasteless bread he was nourished.
Upon that layer of hard soil where he planted,
today glorious fields on colorful meadows,
treasure shines through his clear vision.
Remembrance of his existence thrills the heart,
for among the thousands of sighs there are showers of hope
that soothe the soul, that fall over the gray pastures
bathed by the sublime and gentle showers of crystal clear waters.
The eloquent tree did not wither
nor was the flowering lily disturbed,
in the valleys torrents of waters do not run away,
but stay and water the dry and dusty soil.
Absent bird, leaving a trail to follow fluttering
to a glorious and eternal meeting
in the gracefulness of the blue celestial heavens.
Holy book open, names engraved
with cursive golden letters,
with measured notes, heavenly voices will sing
with indescribable joy.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.”