Little Root, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Charles Hood, Storm on Jupiter


Little Root


Little root, beautiful,
the night approaches.
Be mine tonight.

Little root, vine of
veins, be my tree,
caress me with your hair.
I wait here now.

Your body, my body,
rose and thorn,
bring your whip,
that hair, long and full.

Thirst for infinite
love, for the light,
redeeming light,
two bodies, yours
and mine. Together,
we will never be blue.

Bring your whip,
that hair, little root,
beautiful. Wipe away
the tears from your
eyes. World of my world,
be mine forever.

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal


Review by Paul Pruitt

I found this poem to be an intriguing mixture of feelings, images of desire, and intentions. In the mix are (of course) plants, but also weapons, fabric, hopes and dreams. There is a hint, or more than a hint, of surrealism in this poem–and it works.  

On the whole Berriozabal’s poems are in the moment. I like that, but I’d also like to see him point just a little more toward results, as he does nicely (ironically?) in “Something will Happen.”


Review by Vyarka Kozareva

Reading this poem, I have the impression that it is constructed as a declaration of love: love as a longing, a dream, a promise. The author uses a pattern of paired words: rose and thorn, long and full, yours and mine to emphasize that the connection is between two and nothing and nobody have a place in-between. The metaphoric language, repetition of words, use of diminutive little root contribute to the whole emotionally impregnated atmosphere.

And because it is well-known that where the love is, there is suffering, too, the presence of the tears is somehow indispensable.

A frank, delicate, melodious in its clarity piece of poetry.

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