Ante la avalancha que a primera hora 
Amenaza con enterrarme en el fracaso
Con las puntas de los dedos 
Tamborileo sobre el escritorio

Y el repiqueteo apurado 
Como de un intenso tiroteo lejano 
Genera alerta en los pájaros 
Que aletean confusos en sus jaulas

Mientras, en algún territorio remoto 
Tras la cortina de la atención
Vuelve a subir mi bici de carreras 
A los terrenos agrestes del lobo 

Donde la soledad es tan patente 
Que no hace ya daño
Y pago por mi aislamiento
Con lo única moneda que creo poseer

Allá sólo los perros me reconocen
Y abalanzan sus caninos amarillos 
Contra mis muslos exaustos 
Incapaces de ocultar el rechazo


Wolf habitat

Before the avalanche, 
first thing in the morning, 
Threatens to bury me in failure
With my fingertips
I tap on the desk

And the hurried tapping
Like an intense distant shootout
Raises the birds' alarm
That flutter confusedly in their cages

Meanwhile, in some remote territory
Behind the curtain of attention
My racing bike climbs back up
To the wolf's wild terrain

Where loneliness is so evident
That it no longer hurts
And I pay for my isolation
With the only currency 
I think I possess

There, only the dogs recognize me
And they lunge their yellow canines
Against my exhausted thighs
Unable to hide their rejection

A miña terapeuta necesita urxentemente 
que eu logre conectarme coa Terra 

Mírome as mans sucias de terra 
as uñas negras e os pulsos cicatrizados
e calculo, en bo calculador que me fixen,
o esforzo necesario para mover 
unha pequena montaña de terra

Non quero que o río de suor desemboque
nun pantano acedo cuberto de areas movedizas
quizais deitarme nesta liña recta 
agardando a sirena da derradeira hora
sexa a cobardía máis adecuada

Ou afastarme do rebumbio do mediodía 
para declarar pomposamente “Aquí veño eu, 
nin sequera o máis espido dos teus súbditos
falto de gramática mais bañado polo solpor”

Seguindo (algún d) os consellos da miña terapeuta
podo con delicadeza as hortensias secas
antes de que chegue a fin do frío protector 
e volva a primavera sacudirnos nos nosos leitos
igual de necesitados cós paxariños
que tecen nos seus chíos 
as ganas de seguir adiante


Winter tasks

My therapist urgently needs
that I manage to connect with the Earth

I look at my hands soiled with dirt
the black nails and the scarred wrists
and calculate, having become good at reckoning, 
the effort necessary to shift
a small mound of earth

I do not want the river of sweat to flow
into an acid swamp full of sand pits
perhaps lying down in this straight line
waiting for the siren of the last hour
is the most appropriate cowardice

Or moving away from the roar of noon
to declare pompously “Here I come,
not even the most naked of your subjects
lacking of grammar but bathed in sunset”

Following (some of) my therapist advice
I can delicately prune the withered hydrangeas
before the end of the protective cold
and the spring’s return to shake us in our beds
just as needy as little birds 
weaving with their tweets 
a desire to go ahead

Cuadno lso barrocs cnsdaos aribarron a prtueo
y tras vciar sobrer el muelle lsa csetsas de sradina, cbalala y mrlzeua,
se desató una frtuee tomnreta qeu mnatvuio a lsa famlias uinads durtnaes dísas,
mietnras cmoían psecado frtio
y se cnotbaan cuetos de srenias y delfnies.

In other ports

Whne teh tierd btoas arirved at hte hbour
adn afetr emtpying onot teh pier teh bsketas of sradines, mcaekrel adn hkae,
a stnogr stomr brkoe out taht kpet teh fmilies togehter fro dyaes,
whlie tehy wree etnaig fdrie fsih
adn tleling stoires of smernias adn dlepihns.

[Dtsriósion creaad con ChtaGPT. Dstirotsion cteared wtih ChtaGPT]

Hoxe a mesma fame esquecida
Volveu desde o cemiterio 
Onde se me caira un día

Dígolle fame, pódolle chamar torno
Estacha, pirámide exipcia aplastando
A feble estrutura dos meus principios

Abandono as miñas torres 
Bótollas de pasto á area
Concentro o universo 
E os seus arrabaldos
No teu corpo en contacto co meu

Subimos xuntos a pasarela 
E afastamos o navío da terra 
Xa nada máis 
Só esta urxencia 
Será o noso futuro

Acudirán os peixes voadores 
Alimentar a nosa luxuria 
Perdidos por sempre 
Inventaremos nomes de flores
Que derreteremos por presión 
Entre os nosos ventres

Alteraremos, de forma definitiva
A consistencia das algas mariñas
Nos períodos de calma chicha
Entrenarei a miña lingua atrofiada
Debuxando estradas de zume 
Na superficie expectante 
Dos teus degoiros

Inventaremos unha fala mol 
Como unha esponxa que só sirva 
Para acariñar o teu corpo 
O meu único obxectivo

Hunger and future

Today the same forgotten hunger
Returned from the cemetery
Where it had fallen one day

I call it hunger, I can call it a vice 
A mooring line, an Egyptian pyramid crushing
The weak structure of my principles

I abandon my towers
I throw it to the sand as fodder
I concentrate the universe
And its suburbs
On your body in contact with mine

We climb the gangway together
And we push the ship away from the shore
Nothing else
Only this urgency
Will be our future

The flying fish will come
Feed our lust
Forever lost
We will invent names of flowers
That we will melt under pressure
Between our bellies
We will alter, definitively
The consistency of seaweed
In periods of dead calm
I will train my atrophied tongue
Drawing roads of sap
On the expectant surface
Of your yearning

We will invent a soft speech 
Like a sponge that only serves 
To caress your body 
My only goal

Tengo un vacío en el pecho
Poderosa nada que empuja hacia afuera 
Para sostenerla o acompañarla
Apoyo cuatro dedos en el esternón

Noto adentro una sala inmensa vacía
Como un pabellón de deportes 
Con la invisible ausencia presionando
Justo en el medio de la reunión

Cómprame un pez azul del océano 
cargado de viento y escamas frescas
Que salga de entre tus pechos
Y sacuda sus vigores sobre el escritorio

Sea su cola palpitante una vela 
un halo naranja en el horizonte 
una congregación de estrellas 
que irrumpa a bocajarro 
contra la aséptica e indetectable nada

Emptiness and closing prayer

I have an emptiness in my chest
A powerful nothingness pushing outward
To hold it or accompany it
I place four fingers on my sternum

I feel inside an immense empty room
Like a sports hall
With the invisible absence pressing
Right in the middle of the meeting

Buy me a blue fish from the ocean
laden with wind and fresh scales
Let it emerge from between your breasts
And shake its vigor upon the desk

May its throbbing tail be a sail
an orange halo on the horizon
a congregation of stars
that bursts forth point-blank
against the aseptic, undetectable nothingness

Madrugada escura e fría 
que pecha un ciclo 
houbera durmido e durmido 
pero xa perdín moitos avións

Na xeada o potente canto do paporrubio
ah, eras ti, meu compañeiro!
aquelando entre pólas invernais
a banda sonora desta despedida

Abrazos e fotos en branco e negro
“Sempre te pareceches a el” 
que a sesenta anos de distancia
deixáralles traxes negros aos noivos

Ademáis dos ollos, da fronte
herdei o libro de nomear as dores
e percorrer o roteiro até ao manancial
para facer abrollar a suave vida

E é por iso que escribo

Farewell and inheritance

Dark and cold dawn
that closes a cycle
I would have slept and slept
but I have already missed many flights

In the frost the powerful song of the robin
ah, it was you, my companion!
preparing among winter branches
the soundtrack of this farewell

Hugs and black and white photos
“You always looked like him”
who sixty years ago today
had left black suits for the bride and groom

In addition to the eyes, the forehead
I inherited the book of naming pains 
and following the route to the spring 
where to make the soft life sprout

And that's why I write.

18/01/2026

Aquí estou
Logo de cuspir o meu desdén 
Sobre o poeta heroinómano
Un mes despois 
Estoume facendo adicto ao loito 

Cuspe mar, aquí estou!
Mendigaba un abrigo
Afastado da podremia
Estéril vida plástica 
E volvo, rico en ignorancia

Agora todos os poros
Abren sedentos as bocas
Fágome esponxa, lua
Baixo a marea
Son o teu discípulo

Bate mar!
Aquí estás xa, en min
Comigo, para sementarte
Cando abra regos
En terras alleas

E todos os versos
Sexan salgados


Shoot, sea!

Here I am
After spitting my disdain 
On the heroin-addicted poet
A month later 
I'm becoming addicted to mourning 

Spit sea, here I am!
I was begging for a shelter
Far from rot
A sterile plastic life 
And I return, rich in ignorance

Now all pores
Open their mouths thirstily
I become sponge, moon
I can turn the tide
I am your disciple

Beat, sea!
Here you are already, in me
With me, for me to sow you
When I’ll open furrows
In foreign lands

And all the verses
Be salty

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