Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal – Polyglot, translator, professor, (non-digital) nomad, international lecturer, entomologist of words, inveterate cultivator of curiosity, stubbornly self-taught visual artist. She has been a poet since she was a child, before she had any memory or awareness of being a poet.
Ph.D. in Linguistics and Ph.D. in Philosophy of Science. She has given lectures, seminars, recitals and courses in many countries around the world. She has published books of poetry and essays.
Those gods who have never returned.
Lost in the blue, mute with beauty.
They have not reached Ithaca: they have decided, obeying blood, to sail until they become salt.
May the sunset of the gods not be taken from me.
May the painter not fail to fill my pupil with water and colour.
May the Mediterranean never cease to deposit shipwrecked bottles in my waters.
Breathe. Breathe out. Breathe in.
The sea has been entering you for millennia, with its repeating foam.
The sea gives you, in codices of salt water, a life that renews itself.
It is us, you said. We, the children of the sea.
The heralds of the blue.
And, now stripped of gods, we have become immortal.
Poetry in this post: © Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal
Published with the permission of Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal