As bicicletas avanzaban esta mañá
coa liberdade da adolescencia
movíanse case sen esforzo
á beira do río que mostraba 
as intimidades do seu leito 
a través dun fermoso cristal verde

Pedaleando íansenos
almacenando nos ollos
as bendicións fluviais

Pola tarde, seguindo as augas
ancoramos os pés no areal
o sol sorprendeuse da pálida pel 
mentres rozaba o branco das ondas
que seguían arrolando o fogar
determinadas no aporte de sal

Meanwhile...

The bicycles advanced this morning
with the freedom of adolescence
they moved almost effortlessly
along the river that showed
the intimacies of its bed
through a beautiful green crystal

Pedaling we went
storing in our eyes
the fluvial blessings

In the afternoon, following the waters
we anchored our feet on the sand
the sun surprised the pale skin
while rubbeb the white of the waves
which kept lulling our home
determined in their contribution of salt

Buscando facer sitio no teléfono púxenme a borrar fotos e topei esta do ano pasado subindo a Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa), a montaña mais alta de Gales.

As montañas teñen moita poesía, camiñar por elas é unha inmersión a pulmón na beleza e unha fonte inesgotável de metáforas.

Publicada no meu instagram.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DWn-irlDTsbB5g093CvZ9jl7f6Vr_px_v9I5sE0/?igsh=ZzA2NzNvdnV4NDMy

Heading to the summit!

Looking to make room on my phone, I started deleting photos and came across this one from last year climbing Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa), the highest mountain in Wales.

Mountains are full of poetry; walking through them is a breath-deep immersion in beauty and an inexhaustible source of metaphors

Entre los hierros del gimnasio
me encontré con tus ojos negros
una serie, otra serie
y a la tercera me llevé tu piel negra
hasta las altas hierbas de mayo 
¡que corta primavera
para tanto territorio!

Tall grasses of May

Through the metal 
of the gym machines
I found your dark eyes
one set, another set
and on the third one
I took your dark skin
to the tall grasses of May
what a short spring
for so much territory!

D’Ajaccio 
le jour où j’ai rompu avec toi
malgré toute sa Méditerranée 
il ne me reste que les trottoirs

Snapshot

From Ajaccio
the day I broke up with you
despite all its Mediterranean charm
all I have left are its pavements

Querida amiga, 
a mesa sobre a que pousaba o mundo
está sendo inclinada perigosamente
os vasos, os pratos e nós mesmos,
comezamos a escorregar cara ao baleiro

pensaría que, alienado, 
me deixo levar do pesimismo 
se non for polas cambras no brazo 
da man asida as faragullas 
restanes da esperanza 

Crumbs of hope

Dear friend, 
the table on which the world rested
is being tilted dangerously
the glasses, the plates and ourselves
begin to slide towards the void

One might think that, alienated, 
I give in to pessimism 
were it not for the cramps in the arm 
of the hand that clutches 
the last crumbs of hope

Na fronteira, 
na banda desleixada 
que separa dous mundos,
florecen rachóns de plásticos 
colgados dos arbustos da primavera

Se o berce teu
arrolou no limiar do abraio
acharás alimento inesgotábel
nas potentes mareas enerxéticas
que moven as portas de ambos mundos

Dos espiñeiros,
mil pugas defensivas,
protexen o segredo da raia
que é só nesta mistura de razóns
que a humanidade poderá seguir medrando

Blend

On the border, 
on the abandoned strip 
that separates two worlds, 
plastic strips bloom 
hanging from the spring bushes 

If your cradle has been rocked 
on the threshold of wonder 
you will find inexhaustible nourishment 
in the powerful energy tides 
that move the doors of both worlds 

Hawthorns, 
a thousand defensive thorns,
protect the secret of the frontier:
only in this blend of reasons 
the humanity will be able to thrive

Iso simplemente é así
son un home ordinario 
exactamente como o da canción

podería estar na cadea 
aprendendo dos meus erros
pero aquí estou entre flores de espiño

podería vivir de okupa das ruínas
ou deixar o meu sangue volto río
anegar o val dos inocentes gomos

mais herdei o galano da teima 
e sigo aquí aparentemente indiferente
ao cataclismo que me arrola
cada noite, cada era

Ordinary

That's just how it is
I'm an ordinary man
exactly like the one in the song

I could be in jail 
learning from my mistakes
but here I am among thorn flowers

I could live as a squatter in the ruins
or let my blood become a river
flooding the valley of innocent buds

but I inherited the gift of stubbornness
and I remain here seemingly indifferent
to the cataclysm that cradles me
every night, every era

Somos millones de seres 
escribiendo versos en miles de lenguas 
con el inmenso poder de colarse en los corazones 
de una docena de personas

Ahora, también te digo, que somos millones
acariciando la superficie del agua,
cada uno con la sutileza de su sangre, 
llamando al hermoso mamífero marino

Y el caso es que rara vez conseguimos  
un ligero brillo, un pequeño estremecimiento
de las aguas, como si, ahora sí, fuese a asomar
el gigante escondido en las profundidades
del alma humana


We are millions

We are millions of beings
writing verses in thousands of languages
with the immense power to slip into the hearts
of a dozen people

Now, I’ll tell you this too: there are millions of us 
skimming the surface of the water 
each in our own blood’s subtle way 
calling out to that beautiful marine mammal.

And the thing is, we hardly ever get 
more than a faint glimmer, a slight shiver 
in the water, as if, just then, the giant hidden 
in the depths of the human soul 
were about to rise to the surface.

La notte ha depositato uno strato di zucchero a velo sullo specchio del bagno.

Pequenas dores que podo confesar sen avergoñarme 
quizais nin sequera a calidade acadara a base do listón  
hai unha chea de factores ocultos para quen escollera a cegueira
En fin, ausente da lista o meu poema de divorcio
who cares!
Impórtame o recoñecemento dos meus, sobre todo cando non chega

Mentres tanto o sangue aporta calor 
ao hemisferio sur da primavera
e eu a levo un pouco aparte e lle digo en confianza
agarda aí que como aquel vello pradairo de highmarsh crescent,
tamén as miñas follas volverán agromar

E arredor desta mínima inquedanza 
abrolla como un manantial cargado de beneficiosos minerais
a revista Hespérie, onde aí si, aparecera un meu poema de saudade do emigrante

Merci, Jean-Marc et tous les auteurs, pour ce numéro 5, un nouveau délice!

Podédela descargar de balde no enlace 

https://hesperie.blogspot.com/

Une bonne nouvelle

The night has deposited a layer of icing sugar on the bathroom mirror.

Small pains that I can confess without shame 
perhaps the quality had not even reached the base of the bar  
there are a lot of hidden factors for those who choose blindness
Anyway, absent from the list is my divorce poem
who cares!
I care about the recognition of my people, especially when it doesn't come

Meanwhile the blood carries the heat
to the southern hemisphere of spring
and I take it a little aside and tell it in confidence
wait there that like that old maple of highmarsh crescent,
my leaves will also grow again

And around this minimal restlessness
it flows like a spring loaded with beneficial minerals
the magazine Hespérie, where a poem of mine about emigrant longing did appear, in issue no. 3

Thank you, Jean-Marc and all the authors, for this no. 5, a new delight!

You can download it for free at the link 
https://hesperie.blogspot.com/

https://hesperie.blogspot.com/

Auga.
Hai augas perdidas
inmensas extensións de océano
onde ningún peixe picaría
só alí abunda 
a omnipresente transparencia verdosa,
a que asenta eterna no cerebro,
como unha mercadoría preciosa 
que acariñar 
nos días de chuvia cando 
me encontre á deriva
perdidas de vista
as cálidas fogueiras 
do noso clan
de terra

It rains

Water.
There are lost waters
immense expanses of ocean
where no fish would take the bite
only there the omnipresent greenish transparency abounds,
the one that settles eternally in the brain,
like a precious commodity
to cherish
on rainy days when
I find myself adrift
lost in sight
of the warm fires
of our clan
from the land