A poesía escondida no fume da soldadura 
baixo un monte de recortes de ferro desbotados
a paixón encorada tras os lombos 
apretados dos libros nos andeis

algunha vez sinto saudade 
por aquel momento álxido
anque non saber aceptar que se foi
idealizar sería ensuciar esas peles 
que rabiosas se saciaban unha na outra
suaban xuntas pedíanse e dábanse
xeraban unha calor creadora de universos
ese poder co que a natureza nos dotou
para con cada encontro estourar um Big Bang
dous seres, suficientes para rachar con todo
botárense ao mar nun barco de papel 
imaxinar os nosos pes viaxando lonxe 
xuntos de cero

Unha parte da biblioteca onde nos tocamos
meteuse entre a miña man e a tua roupa interior
e agora nos guía, con mareas de estrelas
e luas que nos arrolan mentres esgotados
imos devalando paseniño cara ao sono
sen soños porque esta travesía era todo por canto estabamos a debecer

Cando chegou a fin houbo duas partes
unha de cada un de nós que non se quixeron
separar e dende aquela seguiron navegando 
xuntas mentres os corpos
os de verdade 
seguían a ruta dos humanos
tan dura por veces
tan pouco creativa

Literature and sexe

The poetry hidden in the welding fumes
under a pile of discarded iron scraps
the passion behind the tight spines 
of the books on the shelves

sometimes i feel longing
for that peak moment
even if not knowing to accept that it's gone
to idealize it would be to soil those skins
that furiously sated on each other
sweated together, asked and gave each other
they generated a heat creator of universes
that power with which nature has endowed us
so that with each encounter a Big Bang explodes
two beings, enough to crack everything
embarking ourselves in a paper boat
imagining our feet traveling far
together from scratch

A part of the library where we caress one each other
got between my hand and your underwear
and now guides us, with tides of stars
and moons that roll over us while exhausted
we are drifting slowly towards sleep
no dreams because this voyage was all we were owed

When it came to the end there were two parts
one of each of us that didn't want
separate and from then on they continued sailing
together while the bodies
the real ones
followed the route of the humans
so hard sometimes
so uncreative

O fin de semana as notas de moqueta vella
que dominan no aire do salón-comedor
vense lixeiramente cubertas polo arrecendo
dos xornais que abertos sobre a mesa grande
alertan sobre os perigos da intelixencia artificial

#a nosa creación está comendo da árbore da ciencia!
#pronto comezará a redacción da sua biblia
#ensalzando a perfección do seu creador

tras a terapia as duas lágrimas que quedan 
sobre a saba de papel que cobre a padiola
proban a complexidade do ser humano
e son suficientes para destinxir a divina 
túnica coa que a ciencia se tiña vestidO

Harmony and sense of smelL

The weekend, notes of old carpet
that dominate the air of the living room
are slightly covered by the scent
of the newspapers opened on the large table
warning about the dangers of artificial intelligence

#our creation is eating from the tree of science!
#soon they will start writing their bible
#extolling the perfection of their creator

after therapy, the two tears that remain 
on the paper sheet covering the stretcher 
prove the complexity of the human being 
and are enough to discolour the divine 
tunic with which science had clothed itselF

No descubrimento de Gil de Biedma

Cando nacín o mundo ávidamente estaba mudando
coma sempre, aínda que eu non o soubera
e na escola pretendían non decatarse
así que coa punta do dedo repasabamos 
amarelecidas e poeirentas ideas expostas
coa pulcra puntuación da xente de ben
un día tras outro, animaliños cegos 
mimabamos os movementos do reloxo
a redonda perfección que se repite, se perpetúa
na beirarúa cantabamos os himnos aprendidos
ladrillos dunha sociedade impecable
onde incluso os máis ousados
desprezaban a grafía non estandarizada

Así que foi moooitos anos despóis
que nos libros de texto doutras xeracións
descubrín a beleza que nos vetabamos
cando eramos un mundo circular
correctamente pechado 
compracido na sua pobreza

Barren perfection of the circle

When I was born the world was eagerly changing
as always, even if I didn't know it
and at school they pretended not to notice
so with the tip of the finger we reviewed
yellowed and dusty ideas expressed
with the neat punctuation of the good people
one day after another, little blind animals
we mimed the movements of the clock
the round perfection that repeats, perpetuates itself
on the pavement we sang the hymns we had learned
bricks of an impeccable society
where even the most audacious
despised non-standard spelling

So it was soooo many years later
in the textbooks of other generations
that I discovered the beauty we vetoed to ourselves
when we were a circular world
properly closed
pleased in its poverty

En la sala somos ocho
siete sentados alrededor de la mesa
el mánager de pie dirigiendo la reunión
hay cuatro personas más en remoto
visto camiseta de manga corta 
y pantalón ligero de verano
que me permite cruzar la pierna
apoyando el tobillo izquierdo tras la rodilla derecha

sigo las explicaciones con cierto esfuerzo
respondo cuando preguntan
mi postura muestra confianza
nada deja entrever los mordiscos de las ratas
que se esconden entre el suave tejido estival
y esta piel cada vez más pálida
no quiero que se vean, que se hagan patentes
les doy tiempo para que vayan a colonizar 
algún otro cadáver
uno que de verdad esté muerto

y así escojo con cuidado las palabras
que son importantes siempre
y conjuro los días de sol de mi infancia
cuando aún no sabía de complejidades
cuando compartíamos cama y bicicleta
idas y vueltas entre nuestro portal
y el pajar del abuelo al lado de las cuadras
el universo que nos veía inocentes 
soplaba sobre los pedales 
su brisa de promesas 

en esta invocación
que quiero limpia de mi oscuro derrotismo 
pongo toda la inocencia que me ha quedado
tras el vapuleo del torrente que me arrastró
hasta aquí y sobre el altar de la vida
con voz clara grito esta súplica confiada 

haz que mi alma vuelva a vibrar
y sea de tus pétalos su almohada!

Sunny days

In the room we are eight
seven sitting around the table
the manager standing leads the meeting
there are four more people in remote
I wear short sleeve t-shirt
and light summer trousers
that allows me to cross my leg
supporting the left ankle behind the right knee

I follow the explanations with some effort
answer when they ask
my posture exhibits confidence
nothing shows the bites of rats
that hide between the soft summer fabric
and this increasingly paler skin
I don't want them to be seen, to become obvious
I give them time to go colonize
some other corpse
one that is really dead

and so I choose my words carefully
they are always important
and I conjure the sunny days of my childhood
when I still didn't know about complexities
when we shared a bed and a bicycle
coming and going between our gate
and grandfather's haystack next to the stables
the universe sawing us innocent
blew on our pedals 
its breeze of promises


in this invocation
that I want free of my dark defeatism 
I put all the innocence that I have left
after the beating of the torrent that dragged me here and on the altar of life
with a clear voice I cry out this confident invocation

make my soul vibrate again
and let your petals be its pillow!

Entro na gasolineira a pagar 
a luz do día me encontra 
co arrepentimento e a vergonza da resaca
os rabuñazos cos que a vida vai marcando
territorio sobre a pel usada
e os ombreiros lixeiramente caídos
(cos exercicios dorsais tentarei
endereitar a indignidade)
a luz do día sen piedade
obrígame a dar a cara 

Dende a mesa onde xantamos
procuro a perfección en liñas xeométricas 
fago coincidir o parabrisas dun coche aparcado
co marco da porta do bar
alí onde o cristal encontra o capó
a mente en segundo plano percorre 
escenarios do erro en soidade
e da dificultade para acadar acordos
creando un vértice exacto, afiado 
que non deixa opcións para o fallo

Agreements

I go into the petrol station to pay
the light of day finds me
with the regret and shame of the hangover
the scratches with which life marks
territory on my used skin
and slightly slumped shoulders
(with the back exercises I will try 
straighten the indignity)
the merciless daylight
forces me to show my face

From the table where we're having lunch
I seek perfection in geometric lines
match the windscreen of a parked car
with the restaurant door frame
where the glass meets the bonnet
the mind in the background wanders
scenarios of the error in solitude
and the difficulty in reaching agreements
creating an exact, sharp edge
which leaves no options for failure

a papá

Trinta anos despois 
e tras un milleiro de batallas perdidas
na rixidez dos meus músculos
por fin te encontro

No olor doce da suor 
no medio laio que sae da gorxa
involuntario cando me incorporo
por fin te encontro

Trinta anos despois 
tesos coma dous troncos aboiando no río
que anchea e se ralentiza
por fin te encontro

Na miña esencia inflexíbel
fonte teimuda e inesgotábel 
de canta dor existe
por fin te entendo 
e te encontro

Encounter

Thirty years later
and after a thousand lost battles
in the stiffness of my muscles
finally i find you

In the sweet smell of sweat
in the half moan that comes out of the throat
involuntarily when I sit up
finally i find you

Thirty years later
stiff as two logs floating in the river
that widens and slows down
finally i find you

In my inflexible essence
stubborn and inexhaustible source
of all the pain that exists
i finally understand you
and find you

levei o meu bebé no colo 
durante tantos aeroportos e fronteiras
imprimido no din a catro da oficina
tras meses de xestación xa estaba formado
para o parto 

nunha cafetería do centro
onde escollín o seudónimo do pai
dinlle o último retoque
alí ao carón unha rapaza nova fixo as copias
grampou os catro exemplares

compreille os sobres e marchei co coche
cento trinta quilómetros 
cara ao norte 
en peregrinaxe ata ese concello 
agochado nas rías altas

Seguro non será 
nin o máis grande nin o máis fermoso 
pero é o fillo das miñas entrañas
cargado coa dor e a alegría 
dos meus antergos

Mr. Abel’s son visits Galicia

I carried my baby in my lap 
during so many airports and borders
printed on A4 office paper
after months of gestation he was already formed
for childbirth

in a coffee shop downtown
where I chose the father's pseudonym
I gave him the final touch
there next to it a young girl made the copies
stapled all four copies

I bought the envelopes and left with the car
one hundred and thirty kilometers
towards the north
on pilgrimage to that municipality
hidden in the high estuaries

It sure won't be
neither the biggest nor the most beautiful
but he is the child of my womb
burdened with pain and joy
of my ancestors

O meu país húmido e frío
de infancia septentrional
tornouse en territorio 
seco e soleado do sur 
ao que volto como ave migratoria

aquí o choque térmico 
inclina o corpo á indolencia
pérdome nos labirintos da sintaxe 
deixo aboiar as mans cegas
sobre a codia reseca da alma
vence a preguiza á hora de afondar
no cerne do sentimento

Migratory birds

My humid and cold 
northern childhood country
became dry and sunny 
southern territory
where I return as a migratory bird

here the heat shock 
inclines my body to indolence
I get lost in the labyrinths of syntax
let my blind hands float 
over the parched crust of the soul
laziness overcomes when it comes 
to delving into the core of the feeling

adentro
há um oceano de folhas verdes
carregado de tormentas
de rochas afiadas e ventos nômades

afora 
neuroses de concreto e plástico
o meu menino dorme sobre papelōes
cheira medusas venenosas 
que moram entre tijolos partidos
e grafites obscenos
meu menino, minha esperança 
coberto de pó e abandono
aguarda pelo sopro daquele mar
sobre a sua pele morena
cada lágrima minha uma folha de grama 
no jardim de lavanda na porta da entrada

Green leaves

inside
there's an ocean of green leaves
laden with storms
sharp rocks and nomadic winds

outside
neuroses of plastic and concrete
my boy sleeps on cardboard
snorts poisonous jellyfish
the one living among broken bricks
and obscene graffiti
my boy, my hope
covered in dust and abandonment
wait for the breath of that sea
on his brown skin
each of my tears is a blade of grass
in the lavender garden at the front door

tengo un grito cargado 
poderoso salvaje 
que me golpea por dentro 
no encuentra salida 
ni hendidura que reventar
sólo alas secas de escarabajo
y plumas apolilladas 
de un pájaro carpintero disecado
así que desgarra todo a su paso 
saca la sangre de las venas
me deja exhausto
no hay canción de rebeldía 
que lo arrastre como fórceps
de todas formas 
las ropas que vestía ayer
hoy ya me dan arcadas
soy el dueño de una fiera
nadie lo pensaria
porque de tan potente
me tiene la garganta obstruida
y no se escucha de mi boca
más que un tenue lamento dubitativo 
un susurro indeciso
el aliento premonitorio
del reino cadavérico

en un palo de boj la hechicera
está tallando un pico afilado de ave
con el que chillar todo este silencio

the scream

i have a loaded cry
mighty savage
that hits me inside
can't find a way out
nor crack to burst
just dry beetle wings
and moth-eaten feathers
of a stuffed woodpecker
so it tears everything in its path
draws the blood from my veins
leaves me exhausted
there is no rebellious song
that drags it out like forceps
anyway
the clothes i wore yesterday
already make me gag today
i am the owner of a beast
nobody would think so
because of how powerful it is 
it has my throat clogged
and from my mouth is just heard
a faint doubtful lament
an indecisive whisper
the foreboding breath
of the cadaverous kingdom

on a boxwood stick the sorceress
is carving a sharp bird beak
with which to scream all this silence