Leo o escrito onte

unha idea tan potente!

ao devalar a excitación da escrita

fican secando na luz do día

as imperfeccións do cristal

que semellara diamante

*

Nada, outro día máis de deriva 

navegando sen agulla de marear

nin trazas no horizonte 

de terra na que puider prender

algún tipo de porto ou ría 

devecendo por dar abrigo

*

Revision

*

I read what I wrote yesterday

such a powerful idea!

as the excitement of writing go out

the imperfections of the crystal

that had seemed diamond

are drying in the daylight

*

Nothing, another day of drifting

sailing without a compass

nor any trace on the horizon

of land where it could take root

some kind of port or estuary

longing to give shelter

Last week I read Seamus Heaney’s Death of a Naturalist, published the year I was born.

Morreu un naturalista 

absorto na vexetación arrincada

que maina viaxa río abaixo

un cacho de plástico amarelo 

e o cercado laranxa 

das obras na ponte 

póñenlle cor de realidade 

á escena bucólica

desta corrente zigzagueante

esquivando rañaceos

pasa unha gaivota 

pelexando co vento

por alá abaixo, abaixo

lonxe das plumas 

os chíos e a frenética busca 

de alimento e territorio

comeza a chover 

(ou é a miña preguiza)

o paseo pola dársena 

para avistar limícolas 

fica no eido das ideas adiadas

*

Death of a naturalist

*

A naturalist died 

absorbed in the uprooted vegetation 

that travels unhurried downstream 

a piece of yellow plastic 

and the orange fence 

of construction work on the bridge

add a touch of reality 

to the bucolic scene 

of this zigzagging stream 

dodging skyscrapers 

a seagull passes by 

fighting the wind, down there, down 

away from feathers 

mewings and the frantic search 

for food and territory 

it starts to rain 

(or is it my laziness) 

the walk along the dock 

to spot waders 

remains in the realm of postponed ideas

Hai un ano nin sabía deste río que dende o mes de abril se volveu meu compañeiro. A respiración das mareas manteno en continuo cambio, as suas beiras lamacentas ou a gloria da pleamar constantemente están a comunicar, para quen quixer pór o ouvido.

Estou seguro que o aninovo traerá boa compaña para todos os que por aquí vos asomades.

Que teñades un 2025 de ilusións!!

The river

A year ago I didn’t even know about this river that since April has become my companion. The breath of the tides keeps it in constant change, its muddy banks or the glory of high tide are constantly communicating, for anyone who wants to listen.

I’m sure the new year will bring good company for everyone of you.

May you have a 2025 full of dreams!!

O teu canto, 

a cor encarnada da tua plumaxe 

foron un feitizo, un imán 

que levou á superficie dos meus labios 

o sorriso ilusionado dun neno

*

Non coñecera antes o profundo amor

que esa melodía de felicidade

fixo estourar no meu peito

*

Da sebe mesta onde reinabas

saqueite, leveite comigo

na navegación que interromperas 

pouseite na cuberta 

ao agarrar de novo o temón

concentreime na rosa dos ventos

*

O sal foi pouco a pouco decolorando

os fermosos tonos do teu peito

os chíos voltáranse molestos 

lonxe do reino das finas polas 

non houbo espazo no hábitat mariño

para os encantos do paporrubio

*

Your song

*

Your song 

the scarlet color of your plumage 

were a spell, a magnet 

that brought to the surface of my lips 

the excited smile of a child 

*

I had never known the deep love 

that the melody of happiness 

made burst into my chest 

*

From the thick hedge where you reigned 

I snatched you up, took you with me 

on the voyage that you had interrupted 

I set you on the deck 

as I took the helm again 

I concentrated on the compass rose 

*

The salt gradually discolored 

the beautiful tones of your chest 

the trils became annoying 

far from the kingdom of thin twigs 

there was no room in the marine habitat 

for the charms of the robin

Atraveso a triste periferia

cara ao noroeste, chimeneas 

casa vellas a beira da autovía 

saindo da cidade e os atascos

reconcíliome coas árbores 

por fin descansan en paz 

tras o duro outono atarefadas

a se desfacer de tanta folla

as suas almas repousan baixo terra

abrigadas co fermoso cobertor marrón 

que o vento frío rompa seus dentes brancos

contra o escudo da estoica casca!

*

Under the brown blanket

*

I go through the sad outskirts 

towards the northwest, chimneys

old houses by the dual carriageway

leaving the city and the traffic jams

I reconcile with the trees

finally they rest in peace

after the hard autumn busy

getting rid of so much leaf

their souls sleep underground

covered with the beautiful brown blanket

may the cold wind break its white teeth

against the shield of their stoic bark!

no xantar de nadal 

escorregan os Insectos 

por baixo da mesa 

*

o panetone levedou 

e levou as primeiras horas 

desta mañá sen papá noel

*

a carne, as patacas, o forno

sen fame, o café irlandés

na nata as patas dunha Araña lenta

*

as luces do pino 

seguen día e noite teimudas 

no seu chamado á alegría 

*

bebo rápido o whisky 

mentres leo os subtítulos 

dunha serie inglesa

*

nos ollos pousanseme 

os diminutos Mosquitos

leo nun receso do rillado da Couza 

*

entreno o músculo da doma 

dos meus vicios de prepotencia 

eu, o máis humilde dos teus fillos 

superlativo a cada chanzo

*

christmas lunch

*

at christmas lunch 

the Insects slip 

under the table 

*

the panettone dough raised properly 

and took up the first hours 

of this morning without santa claus

*

the meat, the potatoes, the oven

no hunger, the irish coffee

in the cream a slow Spider left its legs

*

the lights of the christmas tree 

remain stubborn day and night 

in their call to joy 

*

I quickly drink the whiskey 

while reading the subtitles 

of an English series 

*

tiny Mosquitoes settle in my eyes

I try to read in a break 

of the Woodworm’s gnawing

*

I train the muscle of taming 

my vices of arrogance 

I, the humblest of your children  

superlative at every step

Este ano, levo publicado un total de 159 posts

O 74,2% foi en galego.

O 8,2% republicacións de poemas meus que voan.

O 6,3% en castelán, o 5% en francés …

Um só post em português.

No máis frío do inverno, para me quentar, recorro ao combustíbel das cifras, sempre ao alcance da man.

Lyric statistics

This year, I have published a total of 159 posts.

74.2% was in Galician.

8.2% reposts of my poems flying free.

6.3% in Spanish, 5% in French…

In the coldest of winter, to warm myself, I turn to the fuel of numbers, always within reach.

Once again, like every month since last March, I have to thank Manuela Timofte for the selection and publication of my poem Tied Soul, written three years ago, at a time when I was feeling weighed down by my dreams, even though it sounds contradictory.

You can read it by following the link below.

A million thanks and a Merry Christmas for everyone! 🥰🥰

Tied Soul

Um poder que cobre de névoa a razão 

Teu corpo como estanho para cobre 

Pedra de Rosetta da paixão 

No qual passear o desejo 

Teu corpo a maior estrela do universo

Orbitar o contato da tua pele

A minha massa 

A tua aceleração gravitacional

Como frearia a pracenteira descida 

Pelo tobogã da vereda aberta 

No camiñar confiado dos suspiros

Se mesmo a ler gramática 

assoma um grave clímax

Entrada de mãos dadas 

Ao reino das leis compassadas

Bebendo juntos na mesma sede

Que só um leve passo

Tem o dom de despertar

*

Open path toboggan

*

A power that covers reason with fog

Your body like tin to copper

Rosetta Stone of Passion

In which to wander the desire

Your body, the biggest star in the universe

To orbit the contact of your skin

My mass

Your gravitational acceleration

How would you stop the pleasant descent

Along the toboggan of the open path 

Made by the confident walk of sighs

If even reading grammar

stressed on the next-to-last syllable

a climax appears

To go hand in hand

To the kingdom of rhythmic laws

Drinking together in the same thirst

That just a light step

Has the gift of awakening

Me inquieta que en nuestro afán por ser cada vez más bellos, imitando la forma esbelta de los maniquíes, su piel lisa, acabemos siendo perfectos en nuestra capa externa y, al igual que ellos, llenos de aire por dentro.

*

No me asusta la posibilidad de un impuesto por el aire respirado, es una sustancia externa finita, mensurable, material

*

Me preocupa que ya no logremos expresar nuestros sentimientos sin tener que pagar por ello

*

Worries

*

It worries me that in our quest to be ever more beautiful, imitating the slender form of mannequins, their smooth skin, we end up being perfect in our outer layer and, like them, full of air inside

*

I am not afraid of the possibility of a tax on the air we breathe, it is a finite, measurable, material, external substance

*

It distresses me to think that we might no longer be able to express our feelings without having to pay for it.