Soy del mar 
y el mar me arrulla y me mece
como hace con todas sus criaturas

El mar me da la fuerza de sus vientos
la constancia de sus corrientes
y la alternancia vital de las mareas

Sin embargo yo navego 
siguiendo metódicamente 
el monótono borde de un círculo 

Con viento fuerte creo ver allá adelante
la espuma blanca dejada por otro barco
no es sino que doy alcance a mi propia estela

Anhelo coger la tangente, trazar una secante
que guíe mi nave a través del océano
dulce chapoteo de las olas contra mi casco

La misma sal, la misma luna 
la ilusión de un nuevo horizonte

I’m from the sea

I am from the sea 
and the sea lulls me and rocks me
as it does with all its creatures

The sea gives me the strength of its winds
the constancy of its currents
and the vital alternation of the tides

Yet I navigate 
methodically following 
the monotonous edge of a circle

With a strong wind I think I see ahead
the white foam left by another ship
it’s just me catching up with my own wake

I long to take a tangent, to draw a secant
that guides my ship across the ocean
sweet splash of waves against my hull

The same salt, the same moon
the dream of a new horizon

Consigo facer que corran as horas
Mentres meu corpo se quenta
Como as morsas do documental
Abandoado á carícia áspera da area
A través das pálpebras baixadas
Invade o sol os recunchos escuros 
de chapapote

Baixo as pólas da ameixeira 
Logo de ter arrincado as herbas
Festexan os rabirrubios a nosa volta 
Peteirando nas taboas que cobren 
a terra

Afora as malas herbas 
Desbrozadora e cortacéspede
Adentro a guerra silandeira
contra a couza e os ratos
Canning Town na outra punta 
do planeta

Apreciase a fina capa de area levantada
Polo vento para me acariñar o costado 
As ondas fan cola por ver os meus chimpos
Con abonda escuma branca celebran
o retorno do cetáceo pródigo á casa 
da nai océana

Holidays

I manage to make the hours go by
As my body warms up
Like the walruses in the documentary
Abandoned to the rough caress of the sand
Through lowered eyelids
The sun invades dark corners 
of tar

Under the branches of the plum tree 
After having plucked the weeds
The redstarts celebrate our return 
Pecking the boards laid 
on the earth

Outside the weeds
Brush cutter and lawnmower
Inside the silent war
Against bedbugs and mice
Canning Town at the other end 
of the planet

I spot the thin layer of sand raised 
By the wind to caress my side 
The waves line up to witness my jumps
They celebrate with plenty of white foam
The return of the prodigal cetacean to the home 
of mother ocean

La mer était là 
à démener ses soifs de terre 
contre les ongles minérales de la jetée

Les enfants 
respirant encore entre deux mondes 
faisaient des plongeons du bout de la jetée

Moi j’approchais du bord 
voulais y rincer mes sueurs 
mais la mer avait endurci sa membrane

Me voici cloué à terre 
incapable de suivre mes instincts de gosse 
y sauter la tête la première du bord de la jetée

Ni de me laisser aller non plus 
à la triste dérive du prétendu 
paradis d’enfance perdu à jamais

The groyne

The sea was there 
struggling its thirst for land 
against the mineral nails of the groyne

The children
still breathing between two worlds
were diving from the end of the groyne

I was approaching the edge
I wanted to rinse my sweat there
but the sea had hardened its membrane

Here I am, nailed to the ground 
incapable of following my childish instincts 
to jump head first from the edge of the groyne

Nor of letting myself go either 
to the sad drift of the so-called 
forever lost childhood paradise

Saio quince minutos tarde, logo de almorzar vendo o documental de Simon Biles e de ler unhas páxinas máis e máis do Resplandor, bo foi que foran só quince, ambos o libro e a serie enganchan e custoume soltalos. Ao sair polo portal o primeiro impulso foi botarme a apurar a mente e o paso para chegar o antes posible ao coche e comezar outro luns de mañá pasando a correr polas marabillas da vida, entón comecei a pensar iso de se morro mañá como podería sentirme por ter pasado pola beira do fermoso río sen adicarlle nin un só pensamento, nin unha soa mirada de agradecemento. Así que me serenei, baixei a presión do paso, comecei a fixarme nos sons fluviais, os paxaros, un camión cargando un contedor que pasa sobre a ponte. Un pato mírame de reollo mentres se afasta da beira nadando. Penso na xente que se deixou vencer pola vida e sinto unha completa empatía, eu mesmo podería estar aí sentado á porta do supermercado cunha lata de cervexa e un cacharro no que ir recollendo as esmolas. Non, non estou tan lonxe do que non foi o suficientemente forte, poderíalle pasar a calquera, tiven sorte de ter a familia que me tocou, a vida non nos dá a todos o mesmo. Así que me naceu un respecto profundo polo que está vencido, polo que se arrastra e só recibe miradas desviadas. E comecei a navegar o novo día esforzándome por saborear o aire, a luz e cada esperanza invisible que se cruza no meu camiño cando vou apurando o estrés.

I’m late

I left fifteen minutes late, after having breakfast watching the Simon Biles documentary and reading more and more pages of A Shining, it could have been more than fifteen, both the book and the series hooked me and I had a hard time letting them go. When I left the gate, the first impulse was to rush my mind and feet to get to the car as soon as possible and start another Monday morning by running through the wonders of life, then I started to think that if I die tomorrow, how would I feel about having passed by the bank of the beautiful river without giving it a single thought, not a single look of gratitude. So I calmed down, lowered the pressure of the passage, began to focus on the river sounds, the birds, a lorry carrying a container passing over the bridge. A duck steals a glance at me as it swims away. I think of the people who have let themselves be defeated by life and I feel complete empathy, I myself could be sitting there at the front of the supermarket with a can of beer and a tin in which to collect some coins. No, I’m not that far from those who weren’t strong enough, it could happen to anyone, I was lucky to have the appropriate family, life doesn’t deal the same to us all. So, a deep respect born inside me for who is defeated, for who crawls and only receives averted glances. And I began to navigate the new day striving to savor the air, the light and every invisible hope that crosses my path as I rush through the stress

Conduzo cara ao sur
Pouco despois da saída a Gatwick
Campos de millo!

Ainda que non o sabiamos
Andabamos á procura
Da porta pola que entrar 
Na idade adulta

Cando no verán amencía a chuvia
Escurecéndonos os plans 
Manuel dáballe a benvida 
Coa sentenza máis afortunada
Unha boa rega para o millo 
Nin todo estaba perdido! 

Botei anos sen atopala
Gabeaba polas farolas
Cando me namoraba
Buscaba a chave na cervexa
Desnudábame nos bares
Moribundo de soidade
Corría de manga curta
No medio dun campo de millo

Cando el marchou
De casa á universidade
Abandonei por sempre a infancia
Porén fiquei durante anos
Como a avelaiña sen conseguir 
Atopar o paso no cristal liso
Da bombilla

Mentres conduzo cara ao canal inglés
Para meter nos pulmóns o océano
Arrástrame o verde intenso do millo
Qué difícil cando foches dous
Quedar só a descifrar as leis da vida

Brothers

I drive south
Shortly after Gatwick junction
Corn fields!

Although we didn't know it
We were looking for the door 
To enter in adulthood

When it got light a rainy day in summer
Casting a shadow over our plans 
Grandad Manuel welcomed it 
With the most fortunate sentence
A good irrigation for corn 
Not everything was lost! 

I spent years without finding it
Climbed at the lampposts
When in love
I was looking for the key in the beer
And used to strip in bars
Dying of loneliness
I ran short sleeves
In the middle of a corn field

When he left
From home to university
I left childhood forever
But I stayed for years
Like the moth without getting 
To find the path through the smooth glass
Of the light bulb

As I drive towards the English Channel
To put the ocean in my lungs
I am carried away by the deep green of the corn
How difficult when there was two of us
To be left alone to decipher the laws of life

Sailor love poem

Se a miras dille que despois de moitas mareas non vin mar máis fermoso que o que bate atrás dos cristais do seu salón e que en ningunha lingua topei melodía máis agradábel que o son do meu nome na sua boca, cando me chama. Ela.

If you run into her

If you run into her, tell her that after many tides I have not seen a more beautiful sea than the one breaking behind the windows of her living room and that in no language have I come across a more pleasant melody than the sound of my name in her mouth when she calls me.

Tras a xornada de viaxe dende Londres:
Á altura da sétima planta do hotel 
Arremuíñanse as gaivotas sobre o Mersey 
Á procura dun lugar onde pasar a noite
Afástase o derradeiro barco cara á illa de Man
As torres das Tres Gracias, o Albert Dock, 
A noria, seguen movendo turistas
E aló enriba, a un paso, na cidade
Ante a imposibilidade de entender o cambio
O medo ao próximo rompe escaparates 
Queima contedores 

Riots

After the day of travel from London:
At the height of the hotel’s seventh floor
Seagulls flocked over the Mersey 
Looking for a place to spend the night
The last ferry leaves for the Isle of Man
The Three Graces, the Albert Dock, 
The big wheel keep moving tourists
And up there, a step away, in the city
Given the impossibility of understanding change
Fear of their neighbour breaks shop windows 
Burn containers 

Avec une branche de genêt
le dos voûté
j’essaie de balayer 
les plumes (et le sang)
de mes rêves abattus 
au fusil de chasse

Je me sens chavirer 
tel un terraplatiste 
récemment déménagé 
à la station spatiale
le manque de gravité 
le moindre des soucis

Je jardine les ombres
les arrose de ma sueur
à la fin de la journée 
je scrute encore l’horizon 
pour des signes de lumière 
fraîche de floraison

Fresh light

With a broom branch
my back bent
I try to sweep away
the feathers (and blood)
of my dreams shot death
by a hunting shotgun

I feel myself turned upside down
just like a flat-earther
recently moved
to the space station
the lack of gravity
the least of worries

I garden the shadows
water them with my sweat
at the end of the day
I still scan the horizon
for signs of fresh light
laden with blooming

A nova língua foi o noso territorio
non sabiamos baixar aos sentimentos 
esa fala neutra fixo de terreo ideal 
para poder vivir na superficie 
daquel amor de pel e urxencia
alleo á tarefa incondicional 
que precisa o florecemento 

O territorio das relacións internacionais
foi a corteza dos nosos corpos
só ficaron caídas na miña boca
duas pingas do teu universo
   qelbii - wardatii
e os nomes dos catro obxectos
que rodeaban a nosa cama

Ma rose

The new language was our territory
we didn't know how to go deep into feelings 
that neutral speech served as ideal ground 
to be able to live on the surface 
of that love of skin and urgency
oblivious to the unconditional task 
needed for flowering

The territory of international relations
was the bark of our bodies
just two drops of your universe
fell into my mouth
   qelbii - wardatii
and the names of the four objects
surrounding our bed

De camiño ao traballo
percorro a beira do río
a marea está alta, o cauce vai cheo
atráeme coa forza imparable
dunha lúa chea

Deixar a mochila 
meter os pes no inquietante limo
cruzar a nado mentres
lavo o meu traxe de bágoas
nas augas marrón terra
quizais se volvan diamantes 
no fondo lamacento

Pasar o resto do día
deitado ao sol entre as canas
alixeirada a pel a secar
espido de mágoas
cunha herba entre os dentes

Diamants

On the way to work
I walk along the river
the tide is high, the riverbed full
it draws me in with the unstoppable force
of a full moon

I leave the backpack 
put my feet in the disturbing slime
swim across while
I wash my tears suit
in the brown earth waters
maybe they will turn into diamonds 
in the muddy bottom

I spend the rest of the day
lying in the sun among the reeds
my lightened skin put to dry
naked of sorrows
with a grass leave between my teeth