Los ojos del soldado
vuelven enfermos de sombra
sus huesos han guardado
el hielo de los montes
su espalda por siempre
ya solo el dolor nombra
los dedos contraídos
se han tornado torpes
Su mente fue un arroyo
rodando falda abajo
los cantos blancos del cauce
las flores de la orilla
presagiaban el valle
caudaloso y manso
no se imaginaba
entrando en la guerrilla
Dejó el taller, la novia
y el equipo de fútbol
toda el agua salvaje
corre ya entubada
lucha, dolor, soledad,
exilio, prisión, disgusto
se suceden en tromba
años lejos de casa
Cuando por fin retorna
es ya un perro enfermo
y viejo y sin brillo
y como una astilla
molesta y revive
lo que queremos muerto
como el bocinazo
de una caracola
que no agrada oír
se le va apartando
ni estatuas, ni heroe
ni campo de amapolas
La derrota última
es la vuelta al país
desearía haber
muerto de una bala
cuando aún podía disparar
The soldier
The soldier's eyes
come back sick of shade
his bones have kept
the ice of the mountains
his back forever
only names the pain
the fingers contracted
and he has become clumsy
His mind was a stream
rolling hillside down
the white stones of the riverbed
the flowers of the river bank
foreshadowed the valley
mighty and meek
he did not imagine
entering the guerrilla
He left the workshop, the girlfriend
and the football team
all wild water
run already piped
fight, pain, loneliness,
exile, prison, disappointment
years away from home
happened in a rush
When he finally returns
he is already a sick dog
and old and dull
and like a splinter
annoys and revives
what we want dead
like the honk
of a conch
unpleasant to be heard
they are moving him away
no statues, no hero
no poppy field
The ultimate defeat
it is the return to the country
he wish he had been
killed by a bullet
when he could still shoot
A soldier’s life means a very hard life. And when he is lucky enough to survive, he comes back home and is a war veteran. He does not receive much money for a pension but has awful memories. You have captured this very well in your poem, abel.
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Hi Olivia, a few years ago I met that soldier the poem talks about. What I write is based on what he told me and I would like it to be a tribute.
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I understand, Abel. This is a true life story.
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