tan pronto como (V)
y si nuestras manos, después de todo, fueran raíces,
preguntarías cansada aquella noche,
pero entonces las raíces se arrastraban,
eran lagartos, tan pesados como nuestras cabezas,
los llevábamos al río, a veces a horcajadas,
y los sepultábamos ruidosamente en la corriente,
veíamos sus escamas alejarse hacia el fuego,
o quizás no veíamos nada, solo un resplandor,
tal vez bebíamos un poco de agua,
nos mojábamos las manos y la cara,
y no éramos raíces,
de ningún modo, en ninguna circunstancia,
bajo ninguna interpretación éramos raíces,
lo supimos pronto,
cuando la lluvia resbaló en nuestras palabras,
y humedeció las suyas,
cuando las isocas, blancas y ciegas,
embestían como toros, librados al fin del hambre,
y volvimos a saberlo aquella noche,
atravesados por todas las fronteras,
de un lado y del otro del alambre,
en cada rombo, en cada hoja de madreselva,
si nuestras manos fueran raíces,
deberíamos arrancarlas y comerlas,
pero no lo eran,
y el sol nos volvería cáscara muy deprisa,
y eso era cierto, y no había madrigueras,
y los caballos relinchaban en la noche sin ser símbolo de nada,
apenas carne y grito,
y entonces no sucedió nada,
de pronto era la misma noche,
la misma luna cenicienta,
las mismas luces parpadeando,
los mismos gestos,
las luciérnagas entre los pastos,
la basura quemándose a lo lejos,
quizás nos habíamos preparado para aquel silencio
[ENG - Translated with Deepl. The translation of poetry is very complex, therefore, in this case, it is not intended to have literary value, but only to serve as an orientation for reading.]
as soon as (V)
and if our hands, after all, were roots,
you would ask tiredly that night,
but then the roots were crawling,
they were lizards, as heavy as our heads,
we'd carry them to the river, sometimes straddling them,
and we'd bury them noisily in the stream,
we'd watch their scales drift away towards the fire,
or maybe we saw nothing at all, just a glow,
maybe we drank a little water,
we would wet our hands and face,
and we were not roots,
in no way, under any circumstances,
under no interpretation were we roots,
we soon found out,
when the rain slipped into our words,
and moistened theirs,
when the isocas, white and blind,
charged like bulls, freed at last from hunger,
and we knew again that night,
crossed by all the borders,
on one side and on the other of the wire,
in every rhombus, in every honeysuckle leaf,
if our hands were roots,
we should tear them out and eat them,
but they were not,
and the sun would turn us into husks very quickly,
and that was true, and there were no burrows,
and the horses whinnied in the night without being a symbol of anything,
just flesh and scream,
and then nothing happened,
suddenly it was the same night,
the same ashen moon,
the same lights flickering,
the same gestures,
the fireflies among the grasses,
the garbage burning in the distance,
perhaps we had prepared for that silence
Esta es la quinta parte de un largo poema, cuya primera versión fue publicada en los folletos de poesía Los vamos a cagar a coplas.
This is the fifth part of a long poem, whose first version was published in the poetry pamphlets Los vamos a cagar a coplas.
Primera parte / part One
Segunda parte / Part Two
Tercera parte / Part Three
Cuarta parte / Part Four
La fotografía es de pxfuel y es gratis incluso para usos comerciales.
The photograph is from pxfuel and is free even for commercial use.