De camiño ao salón de peiteado
pasamos pola beiramar
Trouxonos papá de visita
cando nenos a ver o espectáculo
da descarga do peixe
Tres arrastreiros novos
con matrícula das Falklands
orgullosos apuntaban cas proas
cara a cidade indiferente
Anoto mentalmente o óxido
nos peiraos de carga
evito dicilo en alto, decátome
do reflexo do meu pai na miña voz
Finalmente, o tempo do corte
achégome á beira marabillado
como sempre da transparencia da auga
No sal desta ría
consérvanse as miñas memorias
On the way to the hairdresser
On the way to the hairdresser
we passed by the waterfront
Dad brought us to visit
when we were children
to see the show of unloading the fish
Three new trawlers
with Falklands registration
proudly pointed their prows
towards the indifferent city
I make a mental note
of the rust on the loading docks
I avoid saying it out loud, I notice
the reflection of my father in my voice
Finally, the time of the haircut
I approach the shore marveling
as always at water’s transparency
My memories are preserved
in the salt of this estuary
abel abilheira 