Antes

Bidueiros púrpura
Verde vexetación, ameazante
Se por descoido me durmira
Había espertar cuberto de musgo
Autoestrada, chuvia

Durante

Tras falar dos avances do último ano
Son consciente 
De estar nun momento feliz
Emigrando do meu ventre
Unha calor aniñou na miña cabeza 

Despois

Deixou de chover
Camiño con decisión
Evito xulgar
Nunca respirei un aire 
Máis puro ca este

Therapy

Before

Purple birch trees
Green vegetation, threatening
If I had fallen asleep carelessly
I would have woken up covered in moss
Highway, rain

During

After talking about the progress of the last year
I am aware
Of being in a happy moment
Emigrating from my womb
A warmth nested in my head

After

It stopped raining
I walk with determination
Avoiding judgement
I have never breathed
Purer air than this

Simplemente mientras pasábamos
Apareció a nuestra izquierda el zaguán 
Y fuera porque hacía media hora
Que el amor nos había sorprendido
Como un tsunami sobre dos cuerpos indefensos
O porque necesitaba otra fonética
Con la que definir lo que estaba aún estallando
Consulté una vez más
En el diccionario de tu cuerpo
Los dulces vocablos de la pasión

Hallway

Just as we were passing by
The hall appeared to our left
And whether it was because half an hour ago
Love had surprised us
Like a tsunami upon two defenseless bodies
Or because I needed another phonetic language
With which to define what was still exploding
I consulted once more
In the dictionary of your body
The sweet words of passion

Fomos á praia ver as ondas
O día parecía unha foto en branco e negro
Do outro lado da ría as nubes baixas 
Avanzaban dende o mar deixando farrapos 
Enganchados nas árbores do alto dos montes

As ondas avanzaban desordenadas
Inútilmente tentaba seguir unha 
Até o seu destino final contra as pedras

Os paxaros usaban os camiños do aire nunha actividade axitada
as bandadas de pombas voando ao unísono 
cara a un mesmo fin 
un grupo de cinco corvos marchaban 
dereitos en formación 
e as desordenadas gaivotas movíanse 
evitando seguir calquera patrón 

A forza de vir e vir, as ondas foran paseniño 
traendo o peche do espazo aéreo 
co seu colofón de noite e farolas.

En tardes como esta, ás veces 
Dáme por lle falar ás ondas
De qué afastado país chegades? 
Ben vos entendo no voso bater
(van para un ollo descoidado!)
Tamén eu veño de lonxe 
E acariño as rochas da fronteira
Entre os meus dous mundos

The waves

We went to the beach to see the waves
The day looked like a black and white photo
On the other side of the estuary 
Low clouds advanced from the sea 
Leaving torn remnants snagged in the hilltop trees 

The waves advanced in disorder
In vain I tried to follow one 
To its final destination against the rocks

The birds used the air paths in constant activity,
Flocks of pigeons flying in unison
Towards the same end,
A group of five crows marched straight in formation
And the disorderly seagulls moved
Avoiding following any pattern

By coming and coming, the waves had slowly
Brought the closure of the airspace
With its climax of night and lampposts.

On afternoons like this, sometimes 
I feel like talking to the waves
What distant country do you come from? 
I understand you well in your hitting
(useless to a careless eye!)
I too come from afar and caress 
The rocks of the border
Between my two worlds

Ainda que a casa estaba fría e húmida
Cando espertei o meu corpo quente agrupárase nunha unidade apacíbel
Ningún músculo enviaba sinais de alarma

Medio século despois, baixo as mantas
Volvera a calidez da infancia 
Cando as vivendas por defecto eran
Frías e húmidas e as camas 
Se lograban quentarse
Voltábanse o refuxio máis íntimo

Logo erguinme e o contacto prolongado
Dos pés espidos mentres almorzaba
Contra a baldosa do chan da cociña
Trouxoume os teus posuíndo nus
Cada cuarto daquel segundo andar de Hydra
Cada día que viñas e faciamos o amor
E do ramo que che comprara na Colonne
Levábaste só unha das rosas vermellas.

Only a rose

Although the house was cold and damp
When I woke up my warm body had gathered into a peaceful unity
No muscle sent alarm signals

Half a century later, under the blankets
The warmth of childhood had returned
When the default homes were
Cold and damp and the beds,
If they managed to warm up, 
Became the most intimate refuge

Then I got up and the prolonged contact
Of my bare feet while I ate breakfast
Against the tile of the kitchen floor
Brought me your naked feet possessing
Every room on that second floor in Hydra
Every time  you came  and we made love
And from the bouquet I bought you at La Colonne
You took only one of the red roses.

Pasaran tantos anos!
Nos escaparates das zapatarías
O xénero a prezos exorbitados 
Era a parte visíbel 
Do frío isolamento

O país do corazón era un diminuto
Bonsai 
Con brillantes froitos agachados
Entre as pólas cuberras 
De liques

A terra 
Que noutrora formara continentes
Cabía agora nun livián testo
Do plástco menos honorable
Que for

A light pot

So many years had passed!
In the shoe store windows
The exorbitantly priced stuff
It was the visible part
Of the cold isolation

The country of the heart was a tiny
Bonsai
With shiny fruits hidden
Among the branches covered
In lichen

The earth
That once formed continents
Now fit in a light pot
Of the least honorable plastic
Imaginable

Pídolle ao todopoderoso 
señor da troposfera,
e de todos os seus seres,
que poña en sordina 
o balbordo do mundo 

botando a saba branca
sobre o leito de herba
torne os corvos do prado
para que só o roce da pel 
sexa o himno da humanidade

Pero xa o sol ranqueante 
acada o horizonte oculto
deixando un baleiro lamacento
onde se derrete sen gloria 
o antídoto contra a dor

Antidote

I ask the almighty 
lord of the troposphere,
and of all its beings,
to put a mute on
the din of the world 

by throwing the white sheet
on the bed of grass
and expelling the crows from the meadow
so that only the touch of skin
is the anthem of humanity

But already the languid sun
reaches the hidden horizon
leaving a muddy void
where the antidote to pain 
melts ingloriously

Agradezo 
pola neve caída durante a noite
(erguémonos cedo 
(aínda non había marcas na rúa 

Onte mesmo (con envexa 
vía Escocia nevada 
(no mapa da axencia estatal de meteoroloxía
hoxe con esforzo chegou a nós!

Encántame a neve 
porque consegue mostrarme
o mesmo mundo
desde outra perspectiva inesperada

Sendo só auga 
a cubrir o obvio 
desvela o que o cotián 
tan candidamente oculta

Snow

I am thankful 
for the snow fallen overnight 
(we got up early 
(there were still no marks on the street

Just yesterday (with envy 
I saw snowy Scotland (on the Met Office map
today with great effort 
the snow finally reached us!

I love the snow 
because it manages to show me
the same world
from another unexpected perspective

Being only water 
covering the obvious 
it reveals what the everyday 
so innocently hides

Esta mañá o termómetro do coche marcaba seis graos 
aínda era noite e a luz das farolas rebotaba nos charcos 
mentres avanzabamos cara á cidade 
no río, antes do raiar do día 
os paxaros celebraban xa animadamente o novo ano 
nas rúas había unha calma 
como se o mundo estivese aínda sen estrear. 

A luz avanzaba tímidamente 
o aire limpo e fresco se rozaba manso 
contra a nosa pel expectante
 
Os ingredientes estaban todos alí
so bastaba parar un intre para escoitar
a doce chamada da vida

New year

This morning the car thermometer read six degrees
it was still night and the light from the lampposts bounced off the puddles
as we advanced towards the city
on the river, before dawn
the birds were already celebrating the new year
in the streets there was a calm
as if the world had not yet begun.

The light advanced timidly
the clean and fresh air brushed gently
against our expectant skin

The ingredients were all there
it was enough to stop for a moment to listen
to the sweet call of life

A veces tengo ganas 
de buscar un ser humano 
y poder vaciar en él, 
como en un contenedor de basuras, 
toda esta soledad 
que me agota la vida

O sueño con abrir al azar 
la primera alma que pase
como una hoja seca invencible
rodando por la acera 
para pesar sus desvelos 
y buscar el mismo grito desgarrado

Adivinar así, de una vez por todas 
si somos seres continuamente 
urgidos de asistencia
llamando en secreto por el rayo protector
que nos saque de alguna forma
del cajón de los relojes rotos

Broken watches

Sometimes I long
to find a human being
and empty into them,
like into a rubbish container,
all this loneliness
that drains my life

Or I dream of randomly opening
the first soul that passes by
like an invincible dry leaf
rolling along the sidewalk
to weigh their burdens
and search for the same heart-wrenching cry

To divine thus, once and for all
if we are beings constantly
in need of assistance
secretly calling for the protective lightning
that will somehow pull us
from the drawer of broken watches

Era yo un pájaro blanco 
De estirpe marina, libre
Tan libre que hasta los dioses
Me envidiaban cuando 
Lanzando gritos estridentes
Navegaba las térmicas
Sobre el hermoso basurero 
A las afueras de la inmensa ciudad

El cinismo que viajaba 
Enganchado en mis alas
Se me desvaneció lo primero
Con el disparo aleatorio
De una escopeta de cartuchos

Ahora con la cabeza recostada 
Sobre la hierba ya no siento
Las corrientes arrastrarme
Podría pensar que no existe más
La esencia del ave en mis restos,
En mis recuerdos, sin embargo
Respiro y puedo sentir 
Los cuerpos de cientos de hormigas
Adentrándose en el mío

Con sus pequeñas mandíbulas
Recortan y se llevan souvenirs,  
Pedacitos de aire y luz,  
A los rincones más oscuros
De sus subterráneas galerías 

The bird 

I was a white bird
Of marine lineage, free
So free that even the gods
Envied me when
Launching strident cries
I rode the thermals
Over the beautiful landfill
On the outskirts of the immense city

The cynicism that traveled
Hooked on my wings
Vanished first
With the random shot
Of a shotgun

Now with my head resting
On the grass I no longer feel
The currents dragging me along
I might think that the essence of the bird no longer exists
In my remains,
In my memories, however
I breathe and can feel
The bodies of hundreds of ants
Entering mine

With their tiny mandibles
They cut and carry away souvenirs,
Little pieces of air and light,
To the darkest corners
Of their subterranean galleries