Agochado entre as sombras
Pescudo meticulosamente entre a luz deste verán húmido do norte 
A chegada do vagón dos soños
Canto mais longos os días menor é a esperanza 
De que finalmente chegue ao meu destino
Abra as portas e ceibe o torrente de ilusións
Que sacie a sede das raíces

On the platform

Hidden in the shadows
I search meticulously in the light of this humid northern summer
The arrival of the dream wagon
The longer the days, the less hope
That it finally reaches my destination
Open its doors and free the torrent of illusions
Let it quench the thirst of the roots

https://wp.me/p1g7it-3w3

Très content de faire partie de cette anthologie de Christophe Condello!

Very happy to be part of this anthology by Christophe Condello!

Circulo cos ollos no navegador
Semella que o coche debe describir 
unhas certas curvas cada día 
antes de deixarme no taller
Eu diría que traza liñas harmónicas, elegantes
Como se estiver executando uns pasos de baile
Por entremedias desta terra sen raíces
De apartamentos chantados no solo industrial
Aquí na área dos Docklands
Nesta cidade de xente nova
Todo luz e esperanza

Virgin Land

I drive with my eyes in the satnav screen
It seems that the car should describe
Certain curves every day
Before leaving me in the workshop
It would say that it draws harmonious, elegant lines
Like it's doing some dance steps
In between this rootless land
Apartments built on industrial land
Here in the Docklands area
In this city of young people
All light and hope

Contratempo e marea
Os dous raís da mesma vía 
Por unha viaxa o caos
Varre a outra coa utopía
Tac-tac -- tac-tac
Tac-tac -- tac-tac

Contra vento e marea
Péchanseme os ollos
Por veces cambia o ruído
A sua frecuencia
Estacións, agullas, chíos de freos
E seguimos salpicando a noite 
Ametrallando a sua esencia
Tac-tac -- tac-tac
Tac-tac -- tac-tac

Contra o reloxo de area
Cara ao norte, Lázaro xa en pe
Agarda cos seus regalos 
De cosmópole para ollos famentos
Unha nova língua esperanza
Na que a república íntima
Verá alzar as barreiras
Tac-tac -- tac-tac
Tac-tac -- tac-tac

Contracorrente
As puntadas co fío dourado do soño
Bórdanme na alma unha estrela 
d'égalité, fraternidade e liberté
Tac-tac -- tac-tac
Tac-tac -- tac-tac

O troupeleo coseu a identidade
Da francofonía na pel do meu corpo

Utopia

Setback and tide
Two rails of the same track
Chaos travels one of them
Sweep the other with utopia
Tack tock -- tock tock
Tack tock -- tock tock

Against all odds
My eyes are closing
Sometimes the noise changes
Its frequency
Stations, points, brake squeals
And we continue splashing the night
Machine-gunning its essence
Tack tock -- tock tock
Tack tock -- tock tock

Against the hourglass
Towards the north, Lazarus already on foot
Waits with his gifts
Of cosmopolis for hungry eyes
A new language of hope
In which the intimate republic
Will see the barriers raised
Tack tock -- tock tock
Tack tock -- tock tock

Against the tide
Stitches with the golden thread of dreams
Embroider in my soul a star
D'égalité, fraternity and liberté
Tack tock -- tock tock
Tack tock -- tock tock

The clattering sewed the Francophone
Identity on the skin of my body

Ao inicio o Anxo tiña ás diminutas

E durante as tormentas que xeraba
Buscabamos refuxio en calas secretas
De paredes escarpadas onde protexidos
Do mar e da terra firme tomabamos o sol
Logo de facer o amor sobre a area
Que se nos quedaba pegada á pel 
Tornándose así o único vestido 
Que nos cubría durante días

Arrecendos do limiar oceánico
Indolencia sen medo do mañá
Nin dores do pasado

Sand clothing

In the beginning the Angel had tiny wings

and during the storms he generated 
we sought refuge in secret coves 
with steep walls where protected 
from the sea and the terra firma 
we sunbathed after making love on the sand 
that stuck to our skin 
thus becoming the only clothing 
that covered us for days

Aromas of the ocean threshold 
indolence without fear of tomorrow 
nor pains of the past

Bury my roten skull
Digging a shallow hole
In this weighty dirt
Soaked with the silent drops 
of my salted inner ocean

Sorry for this extra effort
In each shovelling
But you could take advantage
Of swollen muscles
Donates from my healthy body
To ease your pains

Not the gray brain 
This one must be entombed
This way it will pay for all the indecision 
The imprecision, its inabilities
Instead of being black or white
Or black and white
With the certainty of a binary code

May the Lord allow two flowers 
to grow from my buried head 
so the hope could be dreamt again

Oración dominical

Entierra mi cráneo podrido
cavando un hoyo poco profundo
en esta tierra pesada
empapada con las gotas silenciosas
de mi salado océano interior 

Disculpa por este esfuerzo extra
a cada palada
podrías aprovechar
los músculos hinchados
donados de mi cuerpo sano
para aliviar tus dolores

Pero no el cerebro gris
este debe ser sepultado
así pagará todas las indecisiones 
las imprecisiones, sus incapacidades
en lugar de haber sido blanco o negro
o blanco y negro
con la certeza de un código binario

Que el Señor permita 
que de mi cabeza enterrada
nazcan dos flores
para volver a soñar la esperanza

My palm hand's skin has almost completely gone

Just the skin of my right hand has suffered from this ailment

The itch has been smoothed I no longer realize that it is still there

In England shake hands is not a common ritual

So I am relieved of this unpleasant situation

Allowing strangers to touch my old skin dried before to fall

feeling the roughness of my whole being 

And risking dragging debris of my body 

As usual, my disloyal body doesn't allow to keep hidden 

My inner barriers against the world

Traición

La piel de la palma de mi mano se ha ido casi por completo
Solo la piel de mi mano derecha ha sufrido esta dolencia
El picor se ha suavizado ya no me doy cuenta que sigue ahí
En Inglaterra darse la mano no es un ritual común
Así que estoy aliviado de la desagradable situación
De permitir que extraños toquen mi vieja piel seca antes de caer
Sintiendo la aspereza de todo mi ser
Y arriesgándose a arrastrar escombros de mi cuerpo
Como de costumbre, mi cuerpo desleal no me permite ocultar
Las barreras internas contra el mundo

Navegamos no espazo escuro, silencioso e frío
Connosco o que queda da esperanza que cargaramos
Na última estación da que hai anos partimos
Cruzámonos con chatarra doutras expedicións 
Que progresivamente mermaran as reservas
De arrecendo a herba daquela terra afastada
Mítica, poderosa e hai tempo xa inexistente
Produto da imaxinación ou do recordo
Partes dunha mesma nebulosa
Que aportan nesta negrura 
A pouca calor que mantén acesos
Aínda os motores da nosa nave
Coa forza xusta para escaparlle 
Á colossal atracción do burato negro

Space travel

We navigate in dark, silent and cold space
With us the remains of the hope we loaded
At the last station we left years ago
We bump into scrap from other expeditions
Those that progressively depleted the grass scent reserves 
Of that distant, mythical, powerful land 
That has long since ceased to exist
Product of imagination or memory
Parts of the same nebula
Maintaining in this blackness
The little heat that still keeps working
The engines of our spaceship
With the minimal force to escape
The colossal attraction of the black hole

Written with a spelling close to the Portuguese, which the majority of Galicians consider foreign and the Portuguese, as spelling mistakes

Remata o mes de junho
Ficou a erva segada 
E o palheiro armado
Nom temos já vacas nem ovelhas
As que alimentar no inverno
Só conosco permanece a erva
Com a sua fidelidade natural
Sempre a medrar 
Mesmo quando já ninguém
Precisar dela

The stubbornness of the grass

The month of June ends
The grass was mown
And the haystack built
We no longer have cows or sheep
To feed in winter
Only with us does the grass remain
With its natural fidelity
Always thriving
Even when no one else
Need it

Quédanseme os versos minerais 
atascados adentro
cos días máis longos 
redúceseme o tempo
as hormonas seguen 
na sua prisión cumprindo condea

Mentres os meus versos vexetais 
se me secan por dentro
unha bolboreta sae 
á sombra dunha terraza
respirar a luz do veran 
sobre costas femeninas

Ombreiros espidos e tecidos lenes
cobren os corpos voluptuosos 
á procura do pracer
lonxe das salas de espera
todo pel e labios ávidos de goce
e os meus versos animais
sen hora para o parto
apodrécenseme dentro

The three withered kingdoms of the verse

My mineral verses
stuck inside
with the longest days
my time is reduced
the hormones follow
in their prison serving sentence

While vegetable verses
drying up in my inner side
in the shade of a terrace
a butterfly comes out
to breathe the summer light
on the female back

Bare shoulders and loose fabrics
cover voluptuous bodies 
in search of pleasure
away from waiting rooms
all skin and lips eager for enjoyment
and my animal verses
no time for delivery
rot inside me