Martyr
they found him

luminous, green, in the field.

When they raise his hands

the grasses under them had turned to hearts.

It is said:

wheatstalks bloomed beneath his sleeves.

It is said:

the birds carried his blood

to his beloved cousins.

He shall return

Blossoming with volcanoes,

and fill again his mother's breasts.

When they found him green as light

they shrouded him with rose buds,

they spread out the sky to lay him on

and made the sun his pillow.