Son quen de botar mesmo días 
nas profundidades onde a auga 
fría e escura é abundante en alimento 
o fondo áspero e ás veces ferinte 
é o único hábitat para o krill

a poderosa cola arrastra 
na sua ondulación o arrecendo dos abismos 
de crustáceos e plancton mariño
ao sol da poesía
mentres visito a superficie 
para tomar osíxeno
no chorro de vapor dos meus pulmóns 
micropingas do corazón oceánico
lifting para almas de cetáceo

Whale breath

I am able to spend even days 
in the depths where the cold and dark water is abundant in food 
the bottom is rough and sometimes hurtful 
but the only habitat for krill

the powerful tail drags 
in its undulations the scent of the abysses 
of crustaceans and marine plankton
to the sunshine of poetry
while I visit the surface 
to take oxygen
in the jet of steam from my lungs
microdrops of oceanic heart 
lifting for cetacean souls

Enchín 
as finas agullas de acupuntura 
de poderes inmensos 
- como un metal tan delgado 
pode almacenar tanta esperanza! -

pídolle a cada golpe seco 
que crava no meridiano da vexiga 
unha noite como unha bombilla apagada. 
Choro cando creo que xa agora a dor 
xa por fin será só unha substancia escura 
a esquecer 

rézolle a calquera que me ofreza 
unha noite como un bálsamo 
unha noite invisible e silandeira 
oito horas de músculos en off
sen ter que mover o umbral da dor
nin voltar a urxencias e á vía no seu brazo

volta a oración como escolta do desespero 
Coas luces baixadas o seu corpo 
semi espido e espetado como un alfineteiro 
esperamos pola maxia que nos devolva 
a vida que se levou o noso fillo morto

Prayer to TCM

I filled
the fine acupuncture needles
of immense powers
- how such a thin metal
can store so much hope! -

I ask every dry blow
nailing the bladder meridian
a night like a light bulb off
I cry when I think that now the pain
will finally be just a dark substance
to forget

I pray to anyone who offers me
a night like a balm
an invisible and silent night 
eight hours of absent muscles
without having to move the pain threshold
nor return to A&E and to the IV in his arm

the prayer returns as an escort of despair
With lights dimmed her body
semi-naked and stuck into like a pincushion 
we wait for the magic to bring back
the life our dead son took us

O clan 
o noso clan desprazábase 
seguindo os rabaños
as casas estaban sempre 
ateigadas de voces
os ciclos da vida sucedíanse 
suavemente
o tempo convertía a rocha en area 
e a través dos animais esta entraba no ser humano 
todo era a mesma enerxía
ninguén imaxinaba que a lei puider ser inxusta
e a soidade era unha palabra estranxeira
que non aparecía no dicionario de noites

Hoxe a couza avanza libre
dende as patas torneadas das sillas do comedor 
ata o fondo dos armarios roupeiros nos cuartos de durmir
os poucos fantasmas que habitan as ruínas mudas
non coidan xa das tellas rotas
a casa auto-engólese e os restos daquela estirpe
isolados e dispersos 
beben a luz das pantallas
nunha eterna estación neutra 
sen o arrecendo a bosta de vaca
a terra esmorece perdido o contacto coa tribo

Following the herds

The clan
our clan moved
following the herds
the houses were always
crowded with voices
the cycles of life followed each other
gently
time turned the rock into sand
and through the animals this entered the human being
it was all the same energy
no one imagined that the law could be unjust
and loneliness was a foreign word
which did not appear in the dictionary of nights

Today the moth is moving forward freely
from the turned legs of the dining room chairs
to the bottom of the wardrobes in the bedrooms
the few ghosts that inhabit the silent ruins
don't take care of the broken tiles anymore
the house swallows itself and the remains of that lineage
isolated and scattered
drink the light from the screens
in an eternal neutral season
without the scent of cow dung
the land fades lost contact with the tribe

Aínda
sigo necesitando cortar as uñas
para limitar a fondura das feridas
cada vez que a iluminación se afasta,
que sinto a calor da chama
e o cheiro a pelos queimados
pero sigo sen ver a luz
- Mestre, cando por fin ao cabo de tanta dor
chegarei ao porto e as tormentas 
serán só sombras ao lonxe?
- ou no último día seguirei lamentando
inútil laio de quen non logra?
Vaiseme o tempo polos buratos da rede
queda unha pel enxoita
sobre os restos da alma imperfeita
será isto a vida?
como non houbo quen de mo explicar?
como foi que tiven que aprendelo só
e con todo non o dei aprendido
aínda

Battlefield

I still 
need to cut my nails
to limit the depth of the wounds
every time the enlightenment recedes
that I feel the heat of the flame
and the smell of burnt hair
but I don't see the light yet
- Master, when finally at the end of so much pain
I will come to the harbor and the storms
will it be just shadows in the distance?
- or on the last day I'll still be complaining
with the useless lament of those who fail
My time is going through the holes in the net
there is a thin skin left
about an imperfect soul
would this be life?
how come there was no one to explain to me?
how come I had to learn it on my own
and even so I haven't learned 
yet

A última hora de la tarde
la sombra de la cordillera
cruzaba el triste cristal de la ventana
allanando con su poder los contornos
de las cosas, la luz huía aplastada
por el peso de la montaña

Sobre la mesa acristalada se encendía 
entonces la lámpara que concentrando
una lucecilla amarillo sucio sobre la montaña
de apuntes imperfectos y hojas de borrador
no había ni sombra de duda que la vida
que deseaba vivir estaba simple y llanamente
en cualquier sitio menos allí

The student

Late afternoon
the shadow of the mountain range
crossed the sad glass of the window
smoothing with its power the contours
of things, the light fled crushed
by the weigh of the cordillera

on the glass table, the lamp 
was then lit, concentrating
a dirty yellow beam on the mountain
of imperfect notes and scrap paper
there was no shadow of a doubt that the life 
truly desired was plainly and simply 
anywhere but here

Un cachiño diminuto de terra de ovellas
foi o regalo á parella para que plantaran 
a sua nova vida nela

comezaron coa casa ladrillo a ladrillo
e co burato do pozo de onde
a dinamita sacou unha montaña de pedra 
 - durante anos terreo de xogos
logo galiñeiro, pozo negro, anaco de horta 
e un xardín triangular cheo de flores 
e herbas medicinais

constante esforzo civilizador 
nesta rexión da fronteira 
estendendo paseos de cemento 
muros, postes, varandas
beirados, chanzos, portais 
os colonos non podían ceder 
o pouco terreo gañado

a terra fertilizada pola constante actividade 
deu á parella catro fillos que corrian 
cos zapatos secos arredor da casa
e aprenderon a présa coa que as silvas 
cobren a sementeira cando a preguiza 
adormenta os membros

ás veces aínda paso os dedos 
sobre a cicatriz da perna 
e volvo sentir baixo os pes 
aquel monte de pedras afiadas 
no que gabeaba alleo ás dificultades 
non imaxino que puidera 
haber habido un universo mellor 
onde medrar 

A tiny patch of land

A tiny patch of sheep land
it was the gift to the couple to plant
his new life in it

they started with the house brick by brick
and with the well hole from where
the dynamite took out a mountain of stone
 - for years playground
then chicken coop, cesspool, piece of vegetable garden
and a triangular garden full of flowers
and medicinal herbs

constant civilizing effort
in this border region
laying concrete walks
walls, posts, railings
kerbs, steps, gates
the settlers could not yield
the little ground gained

the land fertilized by constant activity
gave the couple four children who ran
with dry shoes around the house
and learned the haste with which brambles 
cover a field when laziness
numbs the limbs

sometimes I still run my fingers
on the leg scar
and feel underfoot again
that mountain of sharp stones
in which I climbed oblivious to the difficulties
I don't imagine there could 
have been a better universe 
to grow up in

Salgo al supermercado de al lado
las hojas de los castaños de indias arruinadas
antes de que acabe agosto 
-- (me negarás tres veces)
llevo el polo blanco de topitos azules
y el pantalón color teja
y me siento ligero y cómodo 
planeo tomar un cafe latte en el bar de la esquina
al que tantas fotos hemos hecho
pero una vez más lo encuentro cerrado
y decido calentarme un café con leche a la vuelta
mientras ordeno la vida en el drive
encuentro los archivos cargados de palabras
para conjurar el miedo
y saltan de los cajones cerrados
las libretas como despensas de vocablos frescos
para estar preparado
palabras que pronuncio y nadie entiende
palabras que nadie pronuncia
abro al azar una de ellas 
salta del papel a mis ojos “beleaguered” 
¿y para que te habría yo de usar?
si el único asedio que sufro es el de todas 
estas palabras que han forrado la casa entera
con las que duermo y se quedan muertas 
en las sábanas a la mañana siguiente

Me consuela que es sábado 
y ya tengo desde anoche
la masa de la pizza lentamente levedando
y aunque siga el tiempo avanzando
hasta que consiga acabar con mis cincuenta
y todavía me sienta inseguro con la lengua
la comida especial de hoy 
va a poder con todo

Almightly Pizza

I go to the supermarket next door
the blighted leaves of horse chestnut trees
before the end of august
-- (you will deny me three times)
I'm wearing the blue dots polo shirt 
with tile-colored pants
feeling light and comfortable
I plan to have a latte at the corner bar
to which we have taken so many pictures
but once again I find it closed
and I decide to warm a coffee once coming home
while I order life in the Drive
I find the files loaded with words
to ward off fear
and out of closed drawers 
jump notebooks as larders of fresh terms
to be prepared
words that I pronounce and nobody understands
words that nobody pronounces
I randomly open one of them
“beleaguered” jumps from the paper to my eyes 
and what would I use you for?
if the only siege I suffer is that of all
these words that have covered the whole house
with whom I sleep and they stay dead
on the sheets the next morning

I am comforted that it's Saturday
and I already have since last night
the pizza dough slowly growing
and even if time goes on moving forward
until it reaches to get me out of my fifties
and I still feel insecure with my language
with today's special meal
I’ll be ready to cope with everything

Summer blows over the hills’ belly 
warm verses of love 
that make them blush with desire

I'd trade my kingdom 
of brambles and thorns 
for two pairs of bee wings 
and spend the rest of summertime's eternity 
making love to the heather 
by rubbing every hair on my insect body 
to the luscious stamens of the moor

Bruyère d’été

L'été souffle sur le ventre des collines 
des vers chauds d'amour 
qui les font rougir de désir

J'échangerais mon royaume 
de ronces et d'épines 
contre deux paires d'ailes d'abeille 
et passerais le reste de l'éternité estivale 
à faire l'amour avec la bruyère 
en frottant chaque poil de mon corps d'insecte 
aux étamines succulentes de la lande

Paseei á sombra das nogueiras
do castelo de Stirling
e no aparcadoiro traseiro 
da prision do casco vello
onde uns poucos bidueiros novos
cos seus brancos traxes
cumpría condea 

ao entrar nas Terras Altas 
ocupadas por abetos 
acariciamos coas papilas dos ollos
as ondulacións do trigo maduro
dende as cunetas as adelfas de ollos violeta 
espreitaron o noso avance cara ao norte 

aos territorios hacia onde a lingua 
se retirou à procura de refuxio
nos barcos de pesca

á beira do lago Ness
un exercito vencido de formigas voadoras 
deunos un multitudinario recibimiento
fàilte, fàilte!  
tomando sobre a nosa pel 
un pequeno repouso 
na batalla que mantiñan coas andoriñas 
sobre a torre en ruínas 
do castelo de Urchadain

En Inverness lin poemas novos 
en follas amarelas 
e me namorei da última cidade 

chegamos a Eilean Donan 
cando asediada polas algas 
ainda non era illa 
amarrada coa ponte de pedra 
engalanada de bagas vermellas 
da árbore de rowan

adentrándonos en Skye
casas brancas tellados de lousa negra
colonizando esta natureza sobrecolledora
refuxios quentes fronte ao clima rudo
ata o porto colorido de Rìg 
onde a descarga 
de bois e langostinos
fíxonos sentir de volta
no fogar:
xente dura do mar
língua agonizante
pobos do fin do mundo

Trip to Scotland

I strolled in the shade of the walnut trees
of Stirling Castle
and in the back parking lot
of the Old Town Jail 
where a few young birches
with their white suits
were serving a sentence

upon entering the Highlands
occupied by firs
we caress with the papillae of the eyes
the ripples of ripe wheat
from the roadside the violet-eyed willowherbs
spied our advance to the north

to the territories where the language
withdrew to seek refuge
on fishing boats

by Loch Ness
a vanquished army of flying ants
gave us a massive reception
fàilte, fàilte!
taking over our skin
a little rest
in the battle they had with the swallows
over the ruined tower
of Urquhart Castle

In Inverness I read new poems
in yellow leaves
and fell in love with the last city

we reached Eilean Donan
when besieged by algae
It wasn't an island yet
tied by the stone bridge
decorated with red berries
of the rowan tree

on entering Skye
white houses with black slate roofs
colonizing this overwhelming nature
warm shelters against harsh weather
we moved forward to the colorful Portree
where the unloading 
of brown crabs and langoustines
made us feel back
at home:
tough sea people
dying language 
world end’s peoples

Nos cercos deixados polo vaso 
na barra do bar 
nacían complexos labirintos 
con saída a unha rua morta

durante todo o proceso de deconstrución 
non coñecin o canto enlouquecido da azulenta 
nin o ranurado elegante da folla da faia 
só a poderosa aguia con patas amarelas de galiña 
cubría coas suas ás o meu territorio

ao bater nas paredes circulares do labirinto 
íanse perdendo partes 
fin da noite nunha rua 
sen portas nin escaparates 
coa resaca como residuo entre os dedos tralos intentos vans de esconder 
o mar na cunca das minhas mans

In the water rings

In the water rings left by the glass 
on the bar counter 
complex labyrinths were born 
with an exit to a dead end street

during the whole process of deconstruction 
I didn't know the crazy song of the dunnock 
nor the elegant groove of the beech leaf 
only the mighty eagle with yellow chicken legs 
covered my territory with its wings

when hitting the circular walls of the labyrinth 
some parts were lost 
end of the night in a street 
without doors or shop windows 
with the hangover as residue 
between my fingers after vain attempts 
to hide the sea in the cup of my hands