In memoriam

Herba fortalecida 
por un inverno de xiadas
e fames de luz

Follas de herba teimuda
que se entretecen e rodean 
o cabezal da desbrozadora
logrando inmobilizalo

Procuro na app o seu nome
non logro decidirme
entre tres variedades

O que si teño claro é que
en canto comezo a cortar
o arrecendo desta herba de marzo
trae de volta o avó ao meu lado

cando no manexo das gallas
no estibado da carga no remolque 
íame ensinando con dozura
a fluir no prado da vida 

Levo a pantalla baixada
que non permite que entren
corpos estraños nos ollos
nin que se vexan
as lágrimas que saen deles

March grass

Grass strengthened 
by a winter of frost 
and hunger for light

Stubborn grass leaves 
that weave around 
the brush cutter head 
immobilizing it

I look for their name in the app 
I can't decide 
between three varieties

What I do know is that 
as soon as I start cutting 
the scent of this March grass  
brings Grandfather back to my side

when in the pitchfork handling
in the load stowage in the trailer 
he was gently teaching me 
to flow in the meadow of life

I wear the face shield down 
to avoid foreign objects 
to enter my eyes 
or strangers to see my tears 
coming out of them

Agardo a vinda de alguén que empuxe
Con forza a enerxía densa que se estancou
Neste campo de batalha do terceiro andar
Xordo, cego e mudo berce da dor 
No que os fungos e o pó tentaron 
Coa sua sinxela ciencia mais sen éxito 
borrar as pegadas escuras do desamor

Agardo alguén que cree aquí novos lazos 
Coma os que a min se me romperan
E restableza así o equilibrio do universo
Para que a todopoderosa Lúa poida 
seguir movendo mareas

Heartbreak

I await the arrival of someone who pushes
With force the dense energy that has stagnated
On this third floor battlefield
Deaf, blind and mute cradle of pain
In which fungi and dust tried
With its simple but unsuccessful science
Too erase the dark traces of heartbreak

I look forward to someone creating new ties here
Like the ones that were broken to me
And thus restores the balance of the universe
So that the almighty Moon may
Keep moving tides

Nesta terra hai parellas de palabras duras

Que non sobrevivirían tan só unha semana

O frío baleiro da separación

Como unha árbore tronzada polo pe

Simplemente desaparecería a sua sonoridade

Seca, cortante, binaria

Hai parellas de palabras que se agarran

tan forte que levantan paredes onde quedas

Atrapado na escaseza de vocablos

Na penuria de matices, na vida de carencia

Word pairs

There are harsh word pairs in this land
That they wouldn't survive just one week
The cold emptiness of separation
Like a tree felled by the foot
Its sound would simply disappear
Dry, sharp, binary
There are pairs of words that stick together
so strong that they raise walls where you stand
Caught in a shortage of terms
In the scarcity of nuances, in the life of lack

Homenaje en clave de humor a Machado

Humorous tribute to Machado

Anoche cuando dormía 
Soñé bendita ilusión
Tu piel tocando la mía
Juntos en aquel sillón

Dentro del sueño inconsciente
Asomó mi deseo osado
Al notar tu cuerpo caliente
Respirando allí a mi lado

Quiso la suerte traidora
Asignarte en ese sueño
Un turno de doce horas 
En el que agotar tu empeño

Anoche cuando dormía
Soñé, ¡Ay decepción!
Que la primavera venía
La frenó tu extenuación

The failed arrival of spring

Last night when I was sleeping
I dreamed a blessed illusion
Your skin touching mine
Together in that chair

Inside the unconscious dream
My daring desire appeared
When I noticed your warm body
Breathing there next to me

Traitor luck wanted 
To assign you in that dream
A twelve-hour shift 
In which to exhaust your efforts

Last night when I was sleeping
I dreamed, Oh disappointment!
That spring was coming
But your exhaustion stopped her

Logo de aceptar que romperan todos 
os preciosos xarróns de cristal tallado
logo de se arrastrar coa boca aberta 
polos túneles fétidos do sumidoiro 

precísase a coraxe de aguantarlle 
a mirada condenatoria ao espello 
termar das pernas dos cabalos bravos
evitarlles fuxir da vergonza ao galope

agora que estás no lado das cuspidelas 
no barrio dos proscritos, dos condenados 
queda renacer neste envase engurrado

e mentres o altar de onde mirabas o ceo
comeza a cubrirse co irreversible verdello 
as mans nos petos apalpan o cereal
para que o vento siga a peitear ondas

Rebirth

After accepting that all the precious cut glass vases broke

after crawling open-mouthed through the fetid sewer tunnels

it takes courage to hold the damning look in the mirror

hold back the legs of wild horses to prevent them from running away from shame at a gallop

now that you are on the side of the spits, in the neighborhood of the outlaws, of the condemned

it remains only to be reborn in this wrinkled container

and while the altar from where you looked at the sky begins to be covered with the irreversible moss

the hands in the pockets feel the cereal so that the wind continues to comb waves

Avec les premiers rayons du printemps
sur mon chemin vers les rues pétillantes
je m'arrête au milieu du pont Victoria 
sur un fleuve où les mouettes paresseuses
se laissent traîner par le courant 

au lieu de donner continuité 
à mes plus hargneuses envies 
lorsque tel un insecte capturé d’un enfant 
je saignais mes ongles sauvages 
contre les murs de ma cage en verre

j’en profite pour prendre 
la culpabilité poisseuse
la jeter par-dessus bord 
pour qu’en suivant le chemin des oiseaux 
elle aille bien se noyer au large 

Léger comme celui revenu d’enfer
je poursuis ma promenade 
humble et renouvelé d’espoir 
vers les champs brillant de vitamines
avec un post-it collé sur ma poitrine
“il-y-a toujours une porte vers la lumière”

Little Sunday poem

With the first rays of Spring
on my way to the sparkling streets
I stop in the middle of the Victoria Bridge
on a river where lazy seagulls
let themselves be dragged by the current

instead of giving continuity
to my most stubborn desires
when like an insect captured by a child
I was bleeding my wild nails
against the walls of my glass cage

I take this opportunity to hurl
the sticky guilt overboard
so that by following the path of the birds
she's going to drown at sea

Light as the one who came back from hell
I continue my walk
humble and renewed with hope
towards the fields shining in vitamins
with a post-it stuck to my chest
“there is always a door to the light”

estou preso
preso vivo preso
no espazo reducido
da cabana que na praia
armara un neno pequeno

espetados na area
catro paus branqueados
polo sal persistente
cúbreos unha rede vella
onde secaron rachóns de algas 
e espiñas de ourizo mariño

véñenme visitar 
a brisa e as insidiosas moscas
non teño carencia de osíxeno
nin tampouco a forza de liberarme
desta teimosa xaula de infancia

Four sticks

i am imprisoned
prisoner, i live prisoner
in the confined space
of the hut than in the beach
a little boy had put together

stuck in the sand
four sticks bleached
by persistent salt
and covered by an old net 
where tears of seaweed 
and sea urchin spines dried

the breeze and the insiduous flies
come to visit me
I have neither lack in oxygen
nor the force to free me
of this stubborn childhood cage

This Sunday Flavio Almerighi includes my poem The Language of Waves in his Sunday selection. I am very grateful!

You can read the jewels with the following link. Enjoy ithem!

https://almerighi.wordpress.com/2024/02/18/gioielli-rubati-288-abel-abilheira-silviatico-guido-mazzolini-alessandro-della-valle-tiziana-botti-gian-ruggero-manzoni-rosario-sarino-bocchino-julie-sopetran/

Lixeiro navego sobre a tona da auga
Onde os ventos tolos deciden levarme
Rabuño coa quilla o lombo oceánico
A efémera cicatriz branca do ronsel 
Di pouco ou nada dos meus desvelos

A miña alma de cetáceo devece 
polas frías profundidades mariñas
Anhela o esforzo reparador da apnea 
Abandonar a superficie de sol e brisa 
Tan docemente carentes de peso

Sailing boat

Lightly I sail on the surface of the water
Where the crazy winds decide to take me
Scratching the ocean's back with my keel
The ephemeral wake's white scar
Says little or nothing about my concerns

My cetacean soul craves 
For the cold depths of the sea
It longs for the restorative effort of apnea
Leaving the sunny and breezy surface
So sweetly weightless

Somos contedores
bastante febles
con esforzo case logramos
manter este caos rodeado
de auga, invisibel, inaccesibel
só a liña contínua do horizonte
separa o ceo da terra

Chaos held back

We are pretty weak containers
with effort we almost manage to keep this chaos surrounded by water, invisible, inaccessible
only the continuous line of the horizon separates the sky from the earth