And the snow falls I was three years old in the year of independence of this country I was six years old in the year of the Northern war I was nine years old in the cholera year I was twelve years old in the year of the great famine I was fifteen years old in the year of the other war When the jihadist shells fell, I was fifty-four years old I chose between the coffin and the suitcase, and I left with my daughter and my son I left my city like fifty-four other people on a barge Ten years have passed and every night shells fall in my dreams Every night sitting on a suitcase I'm also waiting and the snow falls Only snow falls. (Translated from Spanish by Virginia Fernandez Collado) This time of mine I write poems to have a place where I can breathe As I keep the windows closed and the lights off I see better the dragonfly and my childhood running around in a field of wheat. I write a...