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Autumn with Kiss

Updated: Nov 11, 2021

Otoño con Beso

A Poem by Eimao Martin Calvo

The Lovers' Harvest / Credit: An original image by Eimao Martin Calvo

Following the updated Autumn Leaves blog and playlist The Hub is delighted to continue the seasonal theme with a collaboration with "family friend" Eimao Martin Calvo. Eimao is a Madrileña, a native of Madrid, who now lives in Alicante and enjoys the spiritual splendour of the surrounding mountains and Mediterranean sea.

The Hub presents Eimao's poems about autumn, her favourite season, with her own orginal images and photographs from her adopted region. Why is autumn Eimao's favourite season?

She answers, enigmatically, with questions of her own: Why do we have ten fingers on our hands and not twelve? Why when it rains and I see the city contained in a puddle do I feel like writing? Why is the light of a candle capable of hypnotizing us?


Autumn with Kiss

In the sky gray and

solid clouds like

woollen pillows

they draw a cold

landscape in the soul.

The almost icy feet

walk, unaware of the course

and the kiss of the

leaves that rustle

under the soles of the feet.

How nice that autumn

comes and fills of shadows,

of gusts of wind,

of early rains the path barely

sketched in the forge and

how good that we are not tired

to resume the path.

Autumn arrives happy

and holds on tight

to the gnarled trunks

of the beech trees.

Autumn opens his fists and

throws, with adolescent glee

handfuls of yellows, ochre,

browns, greens, reds and browns

And the that claps

with the beating of its leaves

this hubbub of tones, treble and bass.

Ups and downs

rude and fragile,

subtle and crude

Nature lets go of her long hair

with golden streaks

and covers our eyes.

What a lucky fall

kissing our feet its fallen

leaves and caressing our faces

this crisp, fern-smiling air.

If winter comes

first I want to sleep here,

between the salient roots,

of the beech trees

and so keep dreaming

with this beautiful autumn.

And Wind, like a mischievous

child, begins to hum.

And I think then that what a joy

that he sings

to sleep peacefully.

Deep breath. I close my eyes.

I'm listening.

I watch out if any goblin

approaches to speak to me.

by Eimao Martin Calvo


Otoño con Beso

En el cielo nubes

grises y sólidas como

almohadas de lana

dibujan en al alma un

paisaje frio.

Los pies casi helados caminan,

desconodedores du su rumbo

y el beso de las hojas

que cruje bajo

las plantas de los pies.

Qué bien que otoño

llega y llena de sombras,

de ráfagas de viento,

de lluvias precoces el camino apenas

esbozado en la fragua y qué bien

que nosostros no estemos cansados

para reanudar el camino.

Otoño llega contento

y se contento y se agarra con fuerza

a los nudosos troncos

de la hayas

Otoño abre los puños

y arroja, con alegría

adolescente puñados de amarillos,

ocres, marrones, verdes, rojos,

y pardos sobre la haya feliz.

Y el roble que aplaude

con el batir de sus hojas

esta algarabía de tonos,

agudos y graves

altos y bajos

rudos y frágiles

sutiles y toscos.

La Naturaleza suelta

su melena larga con

mechones dorados

y nos tapiza los ojos.

Qué suerte de otoño

besándonos los pies

sus hojas caídas y acariciándonos

el rostro este aire nítido olor a helecho.

Si Invierno llega

antes quiero dormirme acquí,

entre los raíces salientes,

de las hayas y así seguir soñando

con este otoño bello.

Y Viento, cual niño travieso, empieza a canturrear.

Y yo pienso entonces qué alegría que cante

para dormir tranquilo.

Respiro hondo. Cierro los ojos.

Eschucho. Vigilo si algún duende

se acerca para hablarme.

para Eimao Martin Calvo


Music for Autumn with Kiss

To accompany her poem Eimao has chosen some instrumental music she used to listen to in autumn: Mike Oldfield's The Voyager.

YouTube video: Mike Oldfield - The Voyager



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