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Traductor
viernes, 16 de abril de 2010
Cuarto movimiento
Si fuera junio,
si junio,
y nada más que junio,
llegara
y cuando estuviera cerca,
o al verlo llegar,
con tocarlo,
respondiera
como lo hacen
algunos meses del año,
y si en junio,
en esas tardes de junio,
fuera posible
estirar la mano
alcanzar su cabeza
tenerla cerca
Y si un solo gesto
no desembocara en
otros movimientos
o se aunara
con violencia
a esta corriente
o el cigarro,
todavía fresco en su boca,
no fuera más que sólo un cigarro.
Si no fuera porque
algo, eso es,
algo,
y nada más,
si bien
no fuera,
aun sigue siendo.
(s.f., La dirección del sonido)
domingo, 11 de abril de 2010
Derek Walcott, para después
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Anonymous submission.
(Derek Walcott)
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Anonymous submission.
(Derek Walcott)
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