Basta con el resplandor 
de unas pocas astillas 
que hayan quedado del parqué 
sobre el que ella construyó su verso 
para abrigarme los pies durante una semana
y ataviar con alas de abeja 
mi perseverante empeño

Her verse

The glow of a few splinters 
left over from the parquet floor 
on which she built her verse 
is enough to warm my feet for a week
and adorn with bee wings
my persevering endeavor 

Exercitar a observación
Ir tomando notas 

Deixar
Unha marca en cada pedra

Recoñecer os achaques
Do fráxil ego

Aceptar a mocidade
Como unha manda de xabarís
Esnaquizando os contedores do lixo

Ailments

Exercise observation
Take notes

Leave
A mark on every stone

Recognize the ailments
Of the fragile ego

Accept youth
As a herd of wild boars
Destroying the wheelie bins

Mesa para tres 
ti, eu e o don que pide sangue
A soidade do don
inútil na sua beleza

Pasa a bala 
queimando unha zona xa seca 
onde os líquidos da vida 
fuxiran espantados

Voan proxectís 
nun silencio de paz eterna 
ocultando a dor que envelena a terra 
como restos do refinado de hidrocarburos

Snapshots

Table for three 
you, me and the gift that asks for blood
The solitude of the gift
useless in its beauty

The bullet passes 
burning an already dry area 
where the liquids of life 
had fled in fright

Projectiles fly 
in a silence of eternal peace 
hiding the pain that poisons the earth 
like residues from hydrocarbon refining

Among the pile of emails 
under a line showing 
my year of birth
I could see several shadows 
digging a deep grave for me

I could also perceive 
a grey silence taking the place 
I had occupied 
just my kingdom
seen from above

Había un tirano
Como siempre, había un tirano allá arriba
Porque aquí las noticias trituraban los cuerpos 
Barrían los restos al vertedero
era un amasijo de carne
Partes desconectadas de cuerpos
De nuestros cuerpos
Que por fin se encontraban
Un Gernika de almas
Que un día se habían rozado
Quizás era eso todo a lo que aspirábamos
Pues el mundo ya estaba maduro

Rubbles

There was a tyrant
As always, there was a tyrant up there
Because here the news crushed the bodies
and swept the remains to the dump
It was a mass of flesh
Disconnected parts of bodies
Of our bodies
That finally met
A Gernika of souls
That had once touched
Perhaps that was all we aspired to
For the world was already ripe

No chan cerámico do comedor 
mentres os adultos toman café
un cabalo branco arrastra 
o carro no que moi ríxidos 
viaxan sentados dous playmobil

“Este cabalo non pode ir á carretera 
porque se lle dis que aparte non aparta. 
Se o levas ti coa man si avanza
os outros cabalos si que poden ir”

Na mesa hai conversa animada
A enfermidade o mellor unguento
Para os lazos esfarrapados da vida

Cando marchamos ela xa conseguiu 
que o cabalo branco a acompañe á sua casa
ainda que ten medo que eu llo roube
fago un último intento, achégome conciliador

“Eu na miña casa teño muitos cabalos”
Así que se confía e ao estar ao seu lado
bótolle a man rapidamente dicíndolle:
“Pero eu son o ladrón de cabalos!!”

Horse thief

On the dining room ceramic floor
while the adults drink coffee 
a white horse pulls the cart 
in which two Playmobil figures sit very stiffly 

“This horse isn’t allowed on the road 
because if you tell it to move, it won’t move. 
If you lead it by the hand, it will move forward. The other horses are allowed on the road.” 

There is lively conversation at the table 
Sickness is the best ointment 
for the frayed ties of life 

When we leave, she’s already managed 
to get the white horse to go with her home 
although she is afraid that I will steal it 
I make one last attempt 
approaching her in a conciliatory manner 

“I have a lot of horses at home.” 
So she let her guard down and when I reach her 
quickly pretend to grab her horse, saying: 
“But I’m the horse thief!!”

Vuelvo a una ciudad vacía, 
todo sigue en su sitio
los jardines, las estatuas,
los pantalanes y la grúa del club náutico 
y al abrir la puerta del coche
el golpe sordo del aire marino
“Me gusta cuando marchas porque estás bien ausente
Y me ves desde lejos y mi dolor no te toca”

Acarreo mi pedernal gastado 
¡oh, cómo podría quejarme! 
si tú y tú también os habéis arrastrado 
con la misma hambre y los ojos vendados
y aquí estoy de nuevo 
con una queja entre los dientes
como el humo de una hoguera 
de ramas verdes
único en mi profundidad 
solitaria migración estéril

Return (to Neruda)

I return to an empty city,
everything is still in its place
the gardens, the statues,
the docks, and the yacht club crane
and as I open the car door
the dull thud of the sea air
"I like it when you leave because you're so absent
And you see me from afar and my pain doesn't touch you"

I carry my worn flint
Oh, how could I complain!
If you and you too have dragged yourselves
with the same hunger and blindfolded eyes
And here I am again
with a complaint between my teeth
like the smoke from a bonfire
of green branches
alone in my depths
solitary sterile migration

Travel from Galicia to Castile: the scar. October 2025

Entro en Castela
abandono os territórios 
queimados do lobo
transición lenta á estepa
arrasto as feridas abertas
sobre o betadine
dos océanos de trigo
e a austera pedra roxa
envexo o amarelo desta chaira
o meu corazón chora cinza
que cobre a terra negra
impúdicamente espida
saio dun pobo cego
en rápido movemento
cara á extinción

Forest exile

I enter Castile,
leave the burnt wolf territories, 
slow transition to the steppe
I drag the open wounds
over the betadine
of the oceans of wheat
and the austere yellowish stone
I envy the gold of this plain
my heart cries ashes
that cover the black earth
shamelessly bare
I leave a blind people
in rapid movement
towards extinction

As mans de centos de persoas 
acariñaran a pel suave do avión
aplicaran a exacta presión
para desterrar o azar 
a un exilio afastado 
e conseguirlle o permiso de voo

Na viaxe sobrevoamos 
prados ingleses ben delimitados
e as augas dun océano azul
ao chegar de novo á terra
os montes cubrían o chan 
de cicatrices secas

salto pola estreita fiestra ovalada
salto e baixo rápido 
sen a molestia do vento na cara
bastante antes do esperado impacto
e a entrada noutra dimensión, abro as ás 
a traxectoria pasa á horizontal
 
Aterro suavemente na penedía
a baixada encheume de enerxía
mentres o avion se afasta 
atendendo os seus asuntos
eu percorro xa a pé o macizo 
ilusionado, esperanzado, 
listo para nomear cada pedra
cada pluma, cada óso
con só o esforzo da miña boca

Flight

The hands of hundreds of people 
had caressed the soft skin of the plane 
applied the exact pressure 
to banish chance to a distant exile 
and obtain its flight permit

On the journey we flew 
over well-defined English meadows 
and the waters of a blue ocean 
when we reached land again 
the mountains covered the ground 
with dry scars 

I jumped through the narrow oval window 
and descended quickly 
without the annoyance of the wind in my face 
well before the expected impact 
and the entrance to another dimension 
I spread my wings, the trajectory became horizontal 

I landed softly on the rocky ground 
te descent filled me with energy 
while the plane was moving away 
minding its own business 
I walked the massif on foot 
excited and hopeful 
ready to name each stone 
each feather, each bone 
with just the effort of my mouth.

A big thank you to Manuela Timofte for publishing my Poem of Love and Longing today.

I wrote it in December 2022. I read it, and it’s exactly the same thing I still feel now. This morning I read a poem by a Russian poet from over 100 years ago, and it also expressed that longing for being away from his homeland. It’s funny how similar all human beings are.

Poem of love and longing