Cunha evolución lenta
case imperceptiblemente 
a nosa pel foi mudando
nun proceso solitario, doloroso
unha a unha
as escamas fóronse abrindo camiño
através da derme escura, seca, dura
de terra áspera e poeirenta

Baixando as escaleiras mecánicas do metro
vin asomar os primeiros síntomas da mutación
as aletas reemprazando os membros inservibles
a transformación arquitectural 
no ríxido palacio da boca

Agora nos túneles que sustentan 
os alicerces desta cidade
mentres buceo sen necesidade de aire
decátome de que é inútil o medo
a impaciencia ou a comparación
a evolución segue o ritmo natural
a nosa pel, allea a esperanza 
acadou a sua nova configuración

Mutation

With a slow evolution
almost imperceptibly
our skin has been changing
in a lonely, painful process
one by one
the scales were making their way
through the dark, dry, hard epidermis
of rough and dusty earth

Going down the tube escalators
I saw the first symptoms of the mutation appear
fins replacing useless limbs
the architectural transformation
in the rigid palace of the mouth

Now in the tunnels that support
the foundations of this city
while diving without the need for air
I realize that fear is useless
as is impatience or comparison
evolution follows the natural rhythm
our skin, alien to hope
has reached its new configuration

Agradezo a chegada de maio 
de mañá cedo camiño ao traballo 

o sol xa quenta as papoulas 
e os meus tenis cor vermello

síntome lixeiro 

voaría se non for polas zonas ocultas 
onde en silencio se expresa o estrés

cústame xuntar os segundos dun minuto
para rematar a lectura dun poema

agardo espectante a trama 
que a xornada tecerá cos meus fíos

I would fly

I appreciate the arrival of May
early morning on my way to work

the sun is already warming the poppies 
and my red sneakers

I feel light

I would fly if not for the hidden areas 
where stress is silently expressed

it's hard for me to put together 
the seconds of a minute 
to finish reading a poem

I look forward to the plot 
the day will weave with my threads

Pecho os ollos, abaixo o río coas mareas artificiais que me deixan destemperado, eu agardando polos ciclos da lúa e aquí chegan as augas rápidas subindo cara ao canaval, cubrindo a barcaza medio enterrada na lama. 

Un cisne, unha parella de galiñola negra patrullan todo ao longo da marxe norte do Lea, logo estas augas marróns ao contrario do que podo supoñer, tamén conteñen vida.

O parking vermello, os edificios azuis, crema, marróns da illa, o paseo que bordea o meandro ata a ponte que cruza á estación do metro.

A diferencia coa rúa da casa onde vivimos en Manchester durante máis de catro anos, aquí hai unha vista ampla, podes buscar o horizonte entre as torres, sobre as autovías e polo outro lado, se te asomas ao balcón vese o Támesis, cos Uber Boats de servizo cara ao centro, e un gran barco amarrado que me enche a cabeza de sal e liberdade. Sempre penso, qué sorte viaxar tan lonxe, a países descoñecidos, por mares inexplorados! Aí é onde está o cerne da vida, aí nese movemento cara ao novo, os ollos ávidos de luz, de aprendizaxe. 

Os barcos sempre aportan un sustrato rico para os meus soños.

Rivers and dreams

I close my eyes, down there, the river with the artificial tides that leave me untempered, I wait for the cycles of the moon but here come the fast waters rising towards the reedbed, covering the barge half buried in the mud

A swan, a pair of black grouse patrol everything along the north bank of the Lea, then these brown waters, contrary to what I can assume, also contain life.

The red parking lot, the blue, cream, brown buildings of the island, the promenade that borders the meander to the bridge that crosses towards the tube station.

Unlike the street in the house where we lived in Manchester for more than four years, here there is a wide view, you can look for the horizon between the towers and over the motorways and on the other side, if you look out on the balcony you can see the Thames, with Uber Boats in service to the center, and a large ship moored that fills my head with salt and freedom. I always think, what luck to travel so far, to unknown countries, through unexplored seas! That is where the heart of life is, there in that movement towards the new, your eyes hungry for light, for learning.

Ships always provide a rich substrate for my dreams.

Ce matin la francophonie 
s’est réveillée au rayon fromages
la Normandie est revenue 
me mener par le bout du nez

pas si loin 
juste de l’autre côté de la Manche
je vous en prie, 
non pas que j’y aie mangé 
les pommes de mon enfance
mais les joies de l’amour et la paternité
m’ont fait tremper dans la culture
à en être imbibé jusqu’à l’adn

mes navires se prelassèrent 
aux bassins de paix
tandis que je dormais 
mes yeux ont capturé
la lumière qui éclaire 
les peuples du je t’aime

French-speaking world

This morning the French-speaking world 
woke up in the cheese aisle
Normandy comes back 
to leads me around by the nose

Not so far, just across the Channel
Please, not that I ate 
the apples of my childhood there
but the joys of love and fatherhood 
made me drench in the culture
to be soaked in it right down to the DNA

my ships lounged 
in the docks of peace
while I slept 
my eyes captured
the light that illuminates 
the people of je t’aime

Gobblers Masticadores published today the English version of Meus Versos, a second life for my poems that brings warmth to this cold April.

You could read them here…

My Verses

I’m busy doing important things
without time to slow down
Always looking for deeper oceans to dive
for thicker entangled forest to explore

So I don’t stay anywhere long
I can only be reached 
with short sentences

Before to stay drowsy again 
caressing the surface of the see 
in the curved glass of a fish tank 
The edge of the woods 
in the docile moss of a windowsill

Always fleeing like a blind bird 
The greatest universe hidden 
inside the tiny human being

Frases cortas

Estoy atareado con cosas importantes
sin tiempo para aminorar el paso
Siempre buscando océanos más profundos donde bucear 
bosques más densos y enredados para explorar

Así que no me quedo mucho tiempo 
en ningún sitio
Sólo se me puede contactar 
con frases cortas 

Antes de volver al estado somnoliento 
acariciando la superficie del mar 
en el cristal curvado de una pecera
La linde del bosque 
en el musgo manso de un alféizar

Siempre huyendo como un pájaro ciego
El universo más grande escondido 
dentro del diminuto ser humano

Os meus soños móstranse distantes comigo,
esperan algo de min que non son quen de dar

Estou nunha granxa, gústame andar ao seu lado mentres ela se ocupa das tarefas nos establos, sinto o magnetismo

Pasamos por un tractor vello de cor verde, pregunto con sorpresa por el, ela responde cansa que xa mo contou noutra ocasión 

Excúsome sen forza, no soño anterior o tractor non estaba no mesmo sitio

Nos galpóns hai unha orde onírica, o tractor non mostra ningún signo de decrepitude 

The green tractor

My dream is cold with me, it expects something from me that I am not able to give

I'm on a farm, I like to walk beside her while she does stable tasks, I feel the magnetism

We pass an old green tractor, I ask with surprise about it, she answers tiredly that she already told me about it on another occasion

I apologize without force, in the previous dream the tractor was not in the same place

In the sheds there is a dreamlike order, the tractor shows no signs of decrepitude

You, fellow poet 
when the storm recede 
and the dust returns to the ground 
or to the top of the dead things

You could spend a while 
to think about your thorn 
to research into the deep wound 
that has brought all those verses

Me, in turn 
I show some poems to my therapists 
so they'll be able to help 
finding the places where 
I have been stabbed 
by the roots of my brambles 
a thorny thick that has grown out of reach 
and it has hurt too many people

La espina

Tú, compañero poeta 
cuando la tormenta retroceda 
y el polvo vuelva al suelo 
o a depositarse sobre las cosas muertas

Podrías dedicar un rato 
a pensar en tu espina 
a investigar en la profunda herida 
que te ha traído todos esos versos.

Yo, por mi parte 
muestro algunos poemas a mis terapeutas 
para que me ayuden 
a encontrar los lugares donde 
me han apuñalado las raíces de mis zarzas 
una mata espinosa que ha crecido desmesuradamente 
y ha dañado ya a demasiada gente

Os donos da terra 
amarrados coa cadea da propiedade
padecen a condea da eterna domesticación
é un animal salvaxe a terra 
require constancia e esforzo
para que acepte a nosa vontade

Os soñadores da terra
con mans brancas e as uñas limpas
voan nas noites frías con ás de colibrí
técenlle en traxectorias de fíos de prata
traxes brillantes de lua e xazmín
vistena fermosa para o baile das identidades

Eu que nunca aprendín 
o manexo fluído da gadaña
nin son quen de colarlle adxectivos ás pedras
para que lozan maxestuosas e acolledoras
non encontro a categoría que me acaia
aboio na atormentada nebulosa de aire 

sen raíces, nin poemas

No roots, no poems

The owners of the land
tied with the chain of ownership
suffer the curse of eternal domestication
it is a wild animal, the land
it requires persistence and effort
so that it accepts our will

The dreamers of the land
with white hands and clean nails
fly in the cold nights with hummingbird wings
they weave in trajectories of silver threads
bright suits of moon and jasmine
beautiful dress for the dance of identities

I never learned
the handling of the scythe in a confident way
nor am I able to attach adjectives to the stones
so that they look majestic and welcoming
I can't find the category that suits me
I float in the tormented nebula of air

no roots, no poems

Na entrega de chaves topamos o apartamento sucio 
faltaban chaves, había marcas de descoido nas paredes
Mentres agardamos a quenda no mostrador do concièrge 
outro inquilino fai as suas xestións, falando sen apenas movementos corporais
o seu galgo mira para nós coas orellas hacia atrás e os ollos tristes
imaxínoo preso no apartamento, cando o dono sae traballar 
de cando en vez o can dá uns pasos mira para nós 
entre a xaula e o ar libre o ascensor como impoñente nave do tempo
Penso nos campos andaluces, nos campos casteláns 
onde o galgo corre centos de millas atrás das lebres 
quizais alí a sua mirada sexa viva e tranquila
pero aquí os seus ollos parecen ver o meu interior 
O conserxe cerimonioso leva un traxe que recorda o da miña voda 

The greyhound gaze

At the inventory check we found the apartment dirty
some keys were missing, there were signs of neglect on the walls
while we wait for our turn at the concierge desk
another tenant goes about his business, speaking without any body movement
his greyhound looks at us with ears back and sad eyes
I imagine him locked in the apartment, when the owner leaves for work
every now and then the dog takes a few steps and looks at us
between the cage and the open air the elevator as an imposing ship of time
I think of the Andalusian fields, the Castilian fields 
where the greyhound runs hundreds of miles behind the hares
maybe there his gaze is alive and calm
but here his eyes seem to see inside me
The cerimonious concierge wears a suit reminiscent of my wedding’s