78 79

Grit, Grafitti, Stars and Laughter from Latin America

80 81

Commentary and translation by Louise B. Popkin

In th�s select�on of poems by Mar�o Benedett�, I have tr�ed to cap-ture h�s evolut�on as a poet. Benedett� �s a comm�tted wr�ter �n the

broadest sense of the word; whether he wr�tes from a pol�t�cal per-spect�ve or from the �nt�macy of h�s own exper�ence, h�s embrace of left�st and human�tar�an values �s clear. Both enthus�asts of h�s poetry and h�s severest cr�t�cs have commented on h�s “obst�nate authent�c�ty,” the absolute cons�stency between who he �s as a per-son and what he wr�tes. h�s subject matter encompasses both the publ�c and the pr�vate sphere. In Poemas de la oficina (1956), an early book wh�ch deals w�th the drab, al�enat�ng world of m�ddle-class Uruguayan bureaucracy, h�s concern w�th soc�al �ssues �s already apparent. Dur�ng the ‘60s and ‘70s, marked by the Cuban revolut�on and by the �ncreas�ngly desperate s�tuat�on �n h�s country and �n Lat�n Amer�ca, h�s poetry was often unabashedly pol�t�cal. however, po�gnant self-awareness and a sens�t�ve portrayal of feel-�ngs are also present �n Benedett�’s work from the outset. And wh�le Lat�n Amer�ca and h�s fellow Lat�n Amer�cans are never absent from what he wr�tes, from the early ‘80s on the �ntrospect�ve stra�n �n h�s poetry f�gures more and more prom�nently. In recent years, Benedett� has wr�tten mov�ngly, and w�th unfa�l�ng good humor, about the exper�ence of ag�ng and fac�ng death. Thus, the pr�nc�pal change �n h�s poetry �s a matter of proport�ons: at h�s most pol�t�cal, he speaks from h�s heart as well as h�s �ntellect and at h�s most �ntro-spect�ve, he �s never purely self-referent�al; rather, �n convey�ng h�s own exper�ence, he bears w�tness to the exper�ence of others, g�v�ng vo�ce to what others feel. Benedett� character�st�cally addresses h�s readers �n humble, s�ncere language from w�th�n the flow of everyday ex�stence. The-mat�cally speak�ng, he �s often a moral�st who appeals to our con-sc�ences and �nc�tes us to act�on (mental or otherw�se); but he never preaches, preferr�ng compl�c�ty to �ndoctr�nat�on and engag�ng us �n

Mario BenedettiEvolution of a Poet

82 83

d�alogue. Styl�st�cally speak�ng, the reader should not be fooled by the apparent stra�ghtforwardness of h�s conversat�onal language; colloqu�al, yet r�ch �n rhetor�cal dev�ces and word play, h�s poetry, w�th �ts hallmark m�x of �rony and compass�on, falls w�th�n the tra-d�t�on of conceptista wr�t�ng that harks back to the work of Fran-c�sco de Quevedo �n the 17th century. In th�s type of wr�t�ng, words have a centr�fugal effect; wh�le they can be read �n a l�teral sense they also �mply mult�ple secondary mean�ngs, send�ng out r�pples, l�ke pebbles tossed onto the surface of st�ll water. Although Bene-dett�’s word play cannot always be reproduced �n Engl�sh, I have attempted �n my translat�ons to approx�mate and/or recreate �t where poss�ble. In so do�ng, �t has been helpful to tease apart strands of mean�ng w�th the author’s ass�stance, and to share w�th h�m dec�-s�ons as to wh�ch mean�ng(s) should be g�ven pr�or�ty. No less a challenge has been the fact that Benedett� �s a qu�ntessent�ally Uru-guayan wr�ter whose frequent references to da�ly l�fe �n h�s country are part of what allows h�m to connect so powerfully w�th h�s read-ers. Ideally, a successful translat�on should ma�nta�n the �mmed�acy of that connect�on w�thout negat�ng the poet’s “uruguayanness”—as m�ght occur �f these local elements were “northamer�can�zed” (�e, replaced w�th others unfam�l�ar to Uruguayans), or �f the un�versal content of h�s poetry were foregrounded to the exclus�on of local elements. On the other hand �f transposed l�terally, these same ele-ments would str�ke my readers as “fore�gn” and therefore, d�stanc-�ng. In address�ng th�s d�lemma, I have tr�ed to preserve what I could of the domest�c, local feel of the or�g�nal texts �n ways that wouldn’t be perce�ved as fore�gn by e�ther group.

84 85

Sueldo

Aquella esperanza que cabía en un dedal,aquella alta vereda junto al barro,aquel �r y ven�r del sueño,aquel horóscopo de un larguís�mo v�ajey el larguís�mo v�aje con ad�oses y gentey países de n�eve y corazonesdonde cada k�lómetro es un c�elo d�st�nto,aquella conf�anza desde no sé cuándo,aquel juramento hasta no sé dónde,aquella cruzada hac�a no sé qué,ese aquel que uno hub�era pod�do sercon otro r�tmo y alguna lotería,en f�n, para dec�rlo de una vez por todas,aquella esperanza que cabía en un dedalev�dentemente no cabe en este sobrecon suc�os papeles de tantas manos suc�asque me pagan, es lóg�co, en cada ve�nt�nuevepor tener los l�bros rubr�cados al díay dejar que la v�da transcurra,gotee s�mplementecomo un ace�te ranc�o.

Payday

That t�ny th�mbleful of hope,that h�gh curb border�ng the mud,that back and forth from sleep to wak�ng,that horoscope about a long journeyand the long journey w�th crowds and farewellsand snowy countr�es w�th warm heartswhere each m�le means a change of sky,that certa�nty from who knows when,that vow who knows for how long,that cross�ng to who knows where,that someone else you m�ght have beenw�th a change of pace and a lucky number or two,�n short, why not come r�ght out and say �t,there’s no room for that th�mbleful of hope�n th�s envelope stuffed w�th peso b�llsd�rty from so many d�rty handswh�ch they pay me, of course, at the end of each monthfor keep�ng the�r books up to dateand lett�ng l�fe go by,one drop at a t�mel�ke ranc�d o�l.

Poemas de la oficina (1953-56)

86 87

El nuevo

V�ene contentoel nuevola sonr�sa juntándole los lab�osel láp�zfaber v�rgen y agres�voel duro traje azulde los dom�ngos.Decenteun muchach�to.Cada vez que se s�entap�ensa en las rod�llerasmurmura sí señorse olv�dade sí m�smo.Agacha la cabezaescr�be s�n borronesescr�be escr�behastalas s�ete menos c�nco.Sólo entoncessusp�ray es un l�ndo susp�rode modorra fel�zde cansanc�o tranqu�lo.

Clarouno ya lo sabese agacha demas�adodentro de ve�nte añosqu�záde ve�nt�c�ncono podrá enderezarsen� seráel m�smo

The New Guy

he seems glad to be herethe new guyh�s l�ps pressed together �n a sm�leh�s new penc�l sharp and set to go�n that st�ff blue su�the used to savefor Sundays.he’s decentalmost a boy.Each t�me he s�ts downhe th�nks of the creases �n h�s trousersthen mumbl�ng yes s�rforgetsabout h�mself.Bent over h�s deskhe wr�tes w�thout a smudgewr�tes and wr�tesunt�lclose to qu�tt�ng t�me.Only thendoes he s�gha s�gh of sat�sfact�onhe’s pleasantly wearyt�red but serene.

Of course�t’s already clearafter all that bend�ng�n another twenty yearsor maybetwenty-f�vehe won’t be able to stand up stra�ghtnor w�ll he be the man he was

88 89

tendrá unos pantalonesmugr�entos y c�líndr�cosy un dolor en la espaldas�empre en su s�t�o.No d�rásí señord�rá v�ejo podr�dorezará palabrotasdespac�toy dos veces al añopensaráconvenc�dos�n creer su nostalg�an� culpar al dest�noque todotodo ha s�dodemas�adosenc�llo.

he’ll have trousers that aresta�ned and cyl�ndr�caland a backachethat never lets up.he won’t be say�ngyes s�rbut old pa�n �n the assas he grumbles and cursesunder h�s breathand tw�ce a yearhe’ll th�nkconv�nced he’s r�ghtd�scount�ng h�s regretsblam�ng noth�ng on fatethat �t’s all beenall of �t way toos�mple.

90 91

Verano

Voy a cerrar la tardese acabóno trabajot�ene la culpa el c�eloque urge como un ríot�ene la culpa el a�reque está ans�oso y no camb�ase acabóno trabajotengo los dedos blandosla cabeza remotatengo los ojos llenosde sueñosyo qué séveo sólo paredesse acabó no trabajoparedes con reprochescon órdenescon rab�apobrec�tas paredescon un solo almanaquese acabóno trabajoque g�ra lentamented�ec�sé�s de d�c�embre.

Iba a cerrar la tardepero suena el teléfonosí señor ensegu�dacomonó cuandoqu�era.

Summer

I’m clos�ng for the daythat’s �tI’m through work�ngblame �t on the skycompell�ng l�ke a r�ver blame �t on the a�rav�d and unchang�ngthat’s �tI’m through work�ngmy f�ngers are l�mpmy head �s m�les awaymy eyes are abeamw�th dreamsdon’t ask me whyI’m t�red of star�ng at wallsthat’s �tI’m through work�ngfussy walls always qu�bbl�ngdemand�ng�ratepathet�c bare walls w�thjust a calendar and a datethat’s �tI’m through work�nghow slowly the pages turn�t’s only m�d-June.

I was about to close for the daybut now the phone �s r�ng�ngyess�r ber�ghtthere butofcourse wheneveryoul�ke.

92 93

Dactilógrafo

Montev�deo qu�nce de nov�embrede m�l novec�entos c�ncuenta y c�ncoMontev�deo era verde en m� �nfanc�aabsolutamente verde y con tranvíasmuy señor nuestro por la presenteyo tuve un l�bro del que podía leerve�nt�c�nco centímetros por nochey después del l�bro la noche se espesabay yo quería pensar en cómo sería esode no ser de caer como p�edra en un pozocomun�camos a usted que en esta fechahemos efectuado por su cuentaqu�én era ah sí m� madre se acercabay prendía la luz y no te asustesy después la apagaba antes que me durm�erael pago de tresc�entos doce pesosa la f�rma Menéndez & Solar�y sólo veía sombras como caballosy elefantes y monstruos cas� hombresy s�n embargo aquello era mejorque pensarme s�n la sav�a del m�edodesaparec�do como se acostumbraen un todo de acuerdo con sus órdenesde fecha s�ete del corr�enteera tan d�ferente era verdeabsolutamente verde y con tranvíasy qué opt�m�smo tener la ventan�llasent�rse dueño de la calle que bajajugar con los números de las puertas cerradasy apostar cons�go m�smo en térm�nos severosrogámosle acusar rec�bo lo antes pos�bles� term�naba en cuatro o trece o d�ec�s�eteera que �ba a reír o a perder o a mor�rme

Typist

Montev�deo November f�fteenthn�neteen f�fty f�veMontev�deo was green when I was a boyabsolutely green and full of streetcarsdear s�r th�s �s to �nform you of the follow�ngI had a book I’d read every n�ghtthen ten �nches along I’d have to stopand after the book the n�ght would come clos�ng �nand I’d want to th�nk about what �t would be l�kenot to be to drop l�ke a stone �nto a wellplease be adv�sed that as of todaywe have made a payment on your behalfwho was �t oh yes �t was my mothershe’d come �n turn on the l�ght say don’t be scaredthen turn �t off before I could get to sleep�n the amount of three hundred twelve pesosto the f�rm of Menéndez & Solar�and all I could see were shadows l�ke horsesand elephants and monsters almost humanyet all that was better than the thoughtof me w�thout the rush of my fearone day forgotten as typ�cally happens�n full keep�ng w�th your �nstruct�onsdated November seventh�t was so very d�fferent �t was greenabsolutely green and full of streetcarsand what a joy to s�t next to the w�ndowr�de down the h�ll feel�ng l�ke I owned �tpast the closed doors play�ng games w�th the numbersmak�ng bets w�th myself on the str�ctest of termsplease acknowledge rece�pt of th�s not�ce�f one ended �n four or th�rteen or seventeenthat meant I was bound to laugh or lose or d�e

94 95

de esta comun�cac�ón a f�n de que podamosy hacerme tan sólo una trampa por cuadrareg�strarlo en su cuenta corr�ente absolutamente verde y con tranvíasy el Prado con cam�nos de hojas secasy el olor a eucal�ptus y a tempranosaludamos a usted atentamentey desde allí los años y qu�én sabe.

Angelus

Qu�én me �ba a dec�r que el dest�no era esto.

Ver la lluv�a a través de letras �nvert�das,un paredón con manchas que parecen prohombres, el techo de los ómn�bus br�llantes como pecesy esa melancolía que �mpregna las boc�nas.

Aquí no hay c�elo,aquí no hay hor�zonte.

hay una mesa grande para todos los brazosy una s�lla que g�ra cuando qu�ero escaparme.Otro día se acaba y el dest�no era esto.

Es raro que uno tenga t�empo de verse tr�ste: s�empre suena una orden, un teléfono, un t�mbre,y, claro, está proh�b�do llorar sobre los l�brosporque no queda b�en que la t�nta se corra.

at your earl�est conven�ence so as to allow usand only cheat�ng once every blockto update your account and our recordsabsolutely green and full of streetcarsand the Prado w�th �ts pathways of fallen leavesand the smell of eucalyptus and early morn�ngw�th best regards we rema�n yours trulyand from there the pass�ng years then who knows what.

Angelus

how was I to know that my future was th�s.

Look�ng out at the ra�n through letters �n reverse,a wall w�th dark patches l�ke the faces of great men,the tops of the buses sh�mmer�ng l�ke f�shand the pervas�ve melancholy of the car horns.

No heavens �n hereand no hor�zon.

Just a table b�g enough for all our elbowsand a cha�r that sp�ns when I need to get away.Another day end�ng and my future was th�s.

There’s l�ttle t�me to dwell on our sad reflect�ons:always one more order, a phone r�ng�ng, a bell,and, of course, there’s to be no cry�ng over the ledgers,the �nk m�ght run and that would never do.

96 97

Socorro y nadie

Sólo un pájaro negrosobre el pret�l cascadouna línea de solen la reja de herrumbre

azoteas s�n rostros�n m�radass�n nad�eestúp�do dom�ngovorazdeshab�tado

ahora se borra el soldef�n�t�vamenteel pájaro se borray es un vuelo s�n mag�a

como últ�ma señalde v�dala cam�saoreándose en la cuerdaag�ta enloquec�dasblancas mangasque reclaman socorropero abrazan el a�re.

Próximo prójimo (1964-65)

Futile Cry for Help

Just a black b�rd po�sedon the crumbl�ng parapeta shaft of sunl�ghton the rusty ra�l

faceless rooftopsthat don’t gaze backnot a soulstup�d sunday�nsat�able deserted

now the sun fadesaltogetherthe b�rd fadesand �ts fl�ght has no mag�c

as one last s�gnof l�fethe sh�rthung out on the clothesl�nefrant�cally waveswh�te sleevesthat cry for helpbut embrace only a�r.

98 99

Grietas

La verdad es quegr�etasno faltan

así al pasar recuerdolas que separan a zurdos y d�estrosa pequ�neses y moscov�tasa présb�tes y m�opesa gendarmes y prost�tutasa opt�m�stas y abstem�osa sacerdotes y aduanerosa exorc�stas y mar�conesa baratos e �nsobornablesa h�jos pród�gos y detect�vesa borges y sábatoa mayúsculas y m�núsculasa p�rotécn�cos y bomberosa mujeres y fem�n�stasa aquar�anos y taur�nosa prof�láct�cos y revoluc�onar�osa vírgenes e �mpotentesa agnóst�cos y monagu�llosa �nmortales y su�c�dasa franceses y no franceses

a corto o a larguís�mo plazotodas son s�n embargoremed�ables

hay una sola gr�etadec�d�damente profunda

Quemar las naves (1968-69)

Rifts

The fact �sthere’s no shortage ofr�fts

thus, as I recallthose that separate left-handed from r�ghtpek�ng from moscownear from far-s�ghtedpol�ce from prost�tutesopt�m�sts from teetotalersclergy from customs off�cersexorc�sts from queerseasy-to-br�be from �ncorrupt�bleprod�gal sons from detect�vesborges from sábatoupper from lower casef�reworks from f�ref�ght�ng women from fem�n�stsaquar�ans from taurusesprophylact�cs from revolut�onar�esv�rg�nal from �mpotentagnost�cs from altarboys�mmortal from su�c�dalfrench from non-french

st�llsooner or very much laterthey can all be br�dged

except for one r�ftthat’s exceed�ngly deep

100 101

y es la que med�a entre la marav�lla del hombrey los desmarav�lladores

aún es pos�ble saltar de uno a otro bordepero cu�dadoaquí estamos todosustedes y nosotrospara ahondarla

señoras y señoresa eleg�ra eleg�r de qué ladoponen el p�e.

and separates the marvel that �s manfrom the demarvell�zers

�t’s st�ll poss�ble to jump across that onebut watch outwe’re r�ght hereyou and the rest of usall set to make �t deeper

so lad�es and gentlemen�t’s t�me to choosechoose wh�ch s�deyou’ll stand on.

102 103

No te salves

No te quedes �nmóv�lal borde del cam�nono congeles el júb�lono qu�eras con desganano te salves ahoran� nunca no te salvesno te llenes de calmano reserves del mundosólo un r�ncón tranqu�lono dejes caer los párpadospesados como ju�c�osno te quedes s�n lab�osno te duermas s�n sueñono te p�enses s�n sangreno te juzgues s�n t�empo

pero s� pese a todono puedes ev�tarloy congelas el júb�loy qu�eres con desganay te salvas ahoray te llenas de calmay reservas del mundosólo un r�ncón tranqu�loy dejas caer los párpadospesados como ju�c�osy te secas s�n lab�osy te duermes s�n sueñoy te p�ensas s�n sangrey te juzgas s�n t�empoy te quedas �nmóv�lal borde del cam�noy te salvas entoncesno te quedes conm�go.

Poemas de otros (1973-74)

Don’t play it safe

Don’t stand �dleat the s�de of the roaddon’t hold off on happ�nessdon’t love w�th half a heartdon’t play �t safe nowor ever don’t play �t safe don’t f�ll up w�th calmdon’t take cover from the world�n a qu�et cornerdon’t let your eyel�ds come down l�ke a we�ghty sentencedon’t forget you have l�psdon’t sleep but to restdon’t �gnore the blood �n your ve�nsdon’t th�nk you have no t�me

but �f �n any caseyou can’t help �tand hold off on happ�nessand love w�th half a heartand play �t safe nowand f�ll up w�th calmand take cover from the world�n a qu�et cornerand let your eyel�ds come downl�ke a we�ghty sentenceand dry up w�thout l�psand sleep not to restand �gnore the blood �n your ve�nsand th�nk you have no t�meand stand �dleat the s�de of the roadand play �t safe �n that casedon’t hold on to me.

104 105

Me voy con la lagartija

Me voy con la lagart�javert�g�nosaa recorrer las celdas dondelíber raúl hector josé lu�sja�me ester gerardo el ñator�ta maur�c�o flav�a el v�ejopenan por todosy res�sten

voy con la lagart�japopularvert�g�nosaa dejarles aquí y allápor entre los barrotes junto a las c�catr�ces o sobre la cucharam�gas de respetos�lenc�os de conf�anzay grac�as porque ex�sten.

Cotidianas (1978-79)

I’m off with the Lizard I’m off w�th the sl�theryl�zardto dart through the dungeons wherel�ber

raúlhector

josé lu�sja�me

estergerardo

el ñator�ta

maur�c�oflav�a

el viejo pay the pr�ce for us alland res�st

I’ll sl�ther off w�th thepeople’s l�zardto sl�p through the �ron barsand leave here and there

r�ght by the�r scars

or on the�r spoonsa few crumbs of respecta shared s�lenceand thanks for the�r ex�stence.

106 107

Talantes

Un hombrealegrees uno másen el corode hombresalegres

un hombretr�steno se parecea n�ngún otrohombretr�ste

Abrigo

Cuando sólo eraun n�ño estupefactov�ví durante añosallá en colónen cas� un tugur�ode latas

fue una épocamás b�enm�serable

pero nunca despuésme sentí tan a salvotan al abr�gocomo cuando empezabaa dorm�rmebajo la colcha de retazosy la lluv�a poderosacantabasobre el techode z�nc

Viento del exilio (1980-81)

MoodsA happy man�s but one more�n the cho�rof happypeople

a sadone�s sadl�kenoother

ShelterWhen I was just a w�de-eyed boyI l�ved for yearsout �n colón�n l�ttle more thana corrugated shack

those dayswere onthe gr�m s�de

but never aga�nd�d I feel as shelteredas safe from harmas when I’d dr�ft offto sleepunder my rag blanketto the song ofthe m�ghty ra�non the t�nroof

108 109

Desaparecidos Están en algún s�t�o / concertadosdesconcertados / sordosbuscándose / buscándonosbloqueados por los s�gnos y las dudascontemplando las verjas de las plazaslos t�mbres de las puertas / las v�ejas azoteasordenando sus sueños sus olv�dosqu�zá convalec�entes de su muerte pr�vada

nad�e les ha expl�cado con certezas� ya se fueron o s� nos� son pancartas o tembloressobrev�v�entes o responsos

ven pasar árboles y pájarose �gnoran a qué sombra pertenecen

cuando empezaron a desaparecerhace tres c�nco s�ete ceremon�asa desaparecer como s�n sangrecomo s�n rostro y s�n mot�vov�eron por la ventana de su ausenc�alo que quedaba atrás / ese andam�ajede abrazos c�elo y humo

cuando empezaron a desaparecer como el oas�s en los espej�smos a desaparecer s�n últ�mas palabras tenían en sus manos los troc�tos de cosas que queríanestán en algún s�t�o / nube o tumba están en algún s�t�o / estoy seguro allá en el sur del alma es pos�ble que hayan extrav�ado la brújula y hoy vaguen preguntando preguntando dónde carajo queda el buen amorporque v�enen del od�o

Desaparecidos

They’re out there somewhere / all assembledd�sassembled / bew�ldered / deaf each seek�ng the others / seek�ng ushemmed �n by quest�on marks and doubtsw�th the�r eyes on the �ronwork �n the plazas the doorbells / the weathered rooftopssort�ng through the�r dreams / forgotten memor�esperhaps recover�ng from the�r pr�vate deaths

no one has told them yet for sure�f they’re gone for good or not�f they’re banners now or tremorssurv�vors or prayers for the dead

they see trees and b�rds go byand wonder wh�ch shadows are the�rs

when they f�rst started d�sappear�ngthree f�ve seven ceremon�es agod�sappear�ng as �f they were ghostsw�th no trace or face or good reasonthey gl�mpsed through the w�ndow of the�r absencewhat was left beh�nd / that scaffoldof embraces sky and smoke

when they f�rst started d�sappear�ngl�ke the oas�s �n a m�raged�sappear�ng w�th no last wordsthey st�ll held �n the�r hands the p�eces of th�ngs they lovedthey’re out there somewhere / �n the clouds or a grave they’re out there somewhere / of that I’m certa�n�n the dearest southern reaches of my soul�t may be they’ve lost the�r bear�ngsand now they wander ask�ng always ask�ngwhere the fuck �s the road to true lovebecause they’re com�ng from so much hate

Geografías (1982-84)

110 111

Tormenta Un perro ladra en la tormentay su aull�do me alcanza entre relámpagosy al son de los post�gos en la lluv�a

yo sé lo que convoca noche adentroesa clamante voz en la casonatal vez deshab�tada

d�ce sumar�amente el desconc�ertola soledad s�n vueltasun m�edo �rrac�onal que no se av�enea enmudecer en paz

y tanto lo comprendoa oscuras / s�n m� sombra�ncrustado en m� pán�copobre anf�tr�ón s�n huéspedes

que me pongo a ladrar en la tormenta

Yesterday y mañana (1987)

Storm

A dog barks �n the stormand �ts howls reach me am�d l�ghtn�ng flashesand the bang�ng of shutters �n the ra�n

I know what’s conjured up �n the dark of n�ghtby that vo�ce clamor�ng �n the b�g old houseperhaps deserted

�t summar�ly declares �ts bafflementlonel�ness pla�n and s�mplea senseless fear that refusesto just d�e away �n peace

and so well do I understand �there �n the dark / w�thout my shadowentrenched �n my pan�ca p�t�ful host w�th no guests

that I start bark�ng �n the storm

112 113

Como si nada

S� esta pobre ex�stenc�a es como un puentecolgante entre dos ár�dos mut�smosvale dec�r entre dos muertesa todas luces (omejor a todas sombras)lo �napelable lo def�n�t�volo �mportante vendría a ser la muerte

¿o no?somos cardúmenes de v�vosque navegamos c�egos / consolablesde muerte a muerte y s�n escalas

de esta tregua brevís�ma querríallevarme algunas cosasverb�grac�a el lat�do del amorel l�bro que releo en los �nsomn�osla m�rada s�n n�ebla de los justosy otra vez el lat�do del amor

esto de no ser más / de term�narset�ene algo de aventura o de pres�d�odel ocaso a acaso med�a un palmode la nada a la nada va una v�da

alla lejos / la s�mple ceremon�ade esa boca de n�ño junto a un pechode madre manant�ales un env�te �nút�l a la nadaun s�mulacro esplénd�do / un ad�ós

La vida, ese paréntesis (1997)

As if it didn’t matter

If th�s p�t�ful ex�stence �s l�ke a hang�ngbr�dge stretched between two ar�d s�lenceswh�ch �s to say two deathsthen cons�dered �n any l�ght (orbetter yet any shadow)what’s not subject to appeal what ult�matelymatters would seem to be death

or �s �t? we’re just so many shoals of l�v�ng creaturessw�mm�ng bl�ndly / consolablyfrom death to death w�thout a stop

from th�s very br�ef resp�te I’d l�keto take w�th me a few belong�ngsfor �nstance the throb of lovethe book I reread �n my �nsomn�athe unclouded gaze of the r�ghteousand once more, the throb of love

the part about no more be�ng / be�ng cut short�s �n some way pr�son / or adventure the d�stance from dusk to doubt �s but a hand’s w�dthfrom noth�ng to noth�ng a l�fespan

off �n the d�stance / the s�mple ceremonyof that �nfant’s mouth at a mother’sflow�ng breast�s a useless challenge to noth�ngnessa magn�f�cent pretense / a farewell

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pero la nada espera / no se olv�dade todas sus promesas serv�c�alessus lágr�mas de paz y protocolosus gr�etas en la t�erra y en el c�elo

¿cómo no ser cur�oso?¿cómo no hacer apuestas a favoro en contra hasta que algu�enpronunc�e el no va más?

estoy hench�do de cur�os�dadcallado como un p�no en el crepúsculocuando el sol / ese �mpar / muere de a pocoy tamb�én él esconde sus vergüenzas

cur�oso y en s�lenc�o / yo me espíoa ver s� la esperanza c�catr�zao s� las serv�umbres se desmandano s� el secreto a voces me conc�erne

estoy flotante de cur�os�dadáv�do de saber o de sufr�rmeflotante entre m�s m�edosesclavo de m�s aurasseñor de m�s cen�zas

alguna vez la nada será míay yo / cur�osola venderé al mejor postory s� él / a su vez / desencantadola subasta en la plaza /podré esfumarme al f�ncomo s� nada

but noth�ngness takes �ts t�me / forgets none of�ts appeas�ng prom�ses�ts qu�et seemly tears / �ts protocol�ts crevasses �n the earth and sky

how can I not be cur�ous?how not to hedge my bets pro and con unt�l the sentence comes down:the j�g’s up?

I’m burst�ng w�th cur�os�tymute as a p�ne at tw�l�ghtwhen the sun / that peerless be�ng / d�es slowly and l�ke me h�des �ts shame from v�ew

I spy on myself / cur�ous and �n s�lenceto see �f hope ever healsor �f serv�le restra�nt has �ts l�m�tsor �f that open secret concerns me at all

I’m afloat w�th cur�os�tyeager to know or to sufferafloat among my fearsa slave to the a�r around melord of my ashes

some day that noth�ngness w�ll be m�neand I / ever cur�ousw�ll sell �t to the h�ghest b�dderand �f he / �n turn / str�pped of h�s �llus�onsauct�ons �t off �n the plaza /I’ll be able to fade away at lastas �f �t d�dn’t matter

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Lluvia

yo conozco esta lluv�aeste muro lavadoeste dolor en pazesta monotonía

los graf�tt� res�stens�guen d�c�endo basta /v�va / muera / go home /lu�s y del�a se qu�eren

pasan los hurgadoreslos perros los mercedesuna pobre av�onetabajo el techo de nubes

pese a m�s v�ejas mañasno se abre m� paraguasme mojo hasta los tuétanoslas cejas me gotean

yo conozco esta lluv�allanto de sur y lást�maslos sueños que se encharcanapocal�ps�s mín�mo

hace años bajabanlas lluv�as melancól�casy tras los ventanalesel amor abr�gaba

la lluv�a ¿qué nos r�ega?¿será lluv�a o serála sal�va de d�osque nos salp�ca?

Rain

I know th�s ra�nth�s wall washed cleanth�s qu�et sorrowth�s sameness

the graf�tt� endurego r�ght on say�ng basta /viva / muera / go homelu�s loves del�a or v�ce versa

the ragp�ckers go bythe dogs the mercedesan orphan planeunder a canopy of clouds

desp�te the usual tr�cksmy umbrella refuses to openI get soaked to the bonemy eyebrows are dr�pp�ng wet

I know th�s ra�nsouthern tears and lamentsthe waterlogged dreamsth�s m�n�mal apocalypse

years back the ra�nstormswere melancholyand beh�nd the tall w�ndowslove was a shelter

these drops splash�ng downare they really ra�n?or �s god spatter�ng usw�th h�s sal�va?