Hoxe en Gioieli Rubati aparece o meu poema Os gofres. Me gusta como soa traducido ao italiano.
Cada domingo Flavio Almerighi publica unha selección de poemas, unha delicia para o padal, Animo a quen goste de poesía de seguir o link e disfrutar dos versos.
In Gioielli Rubati, my poem Os gofres appears today. I like how it sounds translated into Italian.
Every Sunday Flavio Almerighi publishes a selection of poems, a delight for the palate, I encourage anyone who likes poetry to follow the link and enjoy the verses.
À la naissance j'étais couvert d’une couche de plastique lisse et brillante le monde avec ses engrenages rouillés glissait sur ma belle surface étanche une épaisse couche d’humour deuxième barrière défensive me tenait caché et inconnu
les années de soleil ont usée l’apparente immortalité issue des carburant fossils les épines terrassèrent la gaieté imbécile à présent entouré de fissures les larmes n’ont plus de barrage la lumière atteint enfin des contrées perdues où je commence jamais trop tard! mon voyage d’exploration
Protective layers
At birth I was covered in a layer of smooth-shiny plastic the world with its rusty gears slid over my beautiful sealed surface a thick layer of humour second defensive barrier kept me hidden and unknown
years of sunshine have worn away the apparent immortality from fossil fuels the thorns struck down foolish gaiety now surrounded by cracks the tears have no more dams the light finally reaches lost lands where i begin never too late! my journey of exploration
Coas reliquias do primeiro caixón da cómoda de mamá fórase comunicando comigo o avó desde o alén
eu deixo recollidos no meu testamento os anos de cegueira e alcohol patrimonio inmaterial da desesperación a ansia de saltar do tren entre Chlef e Oran quedar a vivir nunha aldea criando cabras á calor do ser humano.
dos residuos de vida pasada á procura dun guante axustado á miña man esquerda ha quedar cando menos un motor de búsqueda o esbozo dunha palabra de amor dardos de cebada brava prendidos no xersei aire dun oceano en tormenta sobre os ombreiros o pó dunha terra labrada candados e chaves e portas e corredores.
unhas pedras do meu pasado unhas landras para o seu futuro e unha moeda estranxeira para a sociedade que as acolla
Inheritance
With the relics from the first drawer from mom's dresser grandfather from beyond was communicating with me
I leave collected in my will the years of blindness and alcohol intangible heritage of despair the urge to jump off the train between Chlef and Oran to live in a village raising goats in the warmth of the human being.
of the waste of past life looking for a glove fitting my left hand there will remain at least a search engine the sketch of a word of love mouse barley darts hooked on the sweater air of a stormy ocean over the shoulders the dust of a cultivated land locks and keys and doors and corridors.
some stones from my past acorns for their future and a foreign currency for the society that will shelter them
Tralo ruido dos mobles laiandose do incansable lume frío de lúa recuperamos a mobilidade baixando cara á luz coa roupa nova saímos como cans ceibos co fuciño en alto cheirando o ceo á procura da felicidade facemos cola nos gofres que comemos diante do escaparate manchamos os dedos de chocolate camiñamos entre a xente cara a praza De Brouckère deixamos o sol baixo descansar por uns intres nas palpebras pechadas dos nosos ollos consultamos a carteleira do cine libres de escoller o que nos pete paseamos e con cada paso desfacémonos da cinza inventando un novo universo que nos invade por cada poro da pel
The waffles
After the moaning of the furniture complaining about the tireless cold fire of the moon we regain mobility descending towards the light in new clothes we go out like free dogs with the snout up smelling the sky in search of happiness we queue at the waffles that are eaten in front of the shop window staining our fingers with chocolate and walking among the people towards Place De Brouckère we let the sun rest for a while in our closed eyelids consulted the cinema board free to choose anything we promenade and with every step get rid of the ash inventing a new universe that invades each pore of our skin
Poème trempé d’ingénuité. Pour ma défense dire que je ne suis pas doué en écrivant sur commande
Le poème est la pioche qui vient percer la froideur de la roche dure et stérile la roche bouclier sec dont on habille l'âme croyant la protéger ces murs minéraux empêchent l'air et la lumière d'atteindre nos esprits de terre pour qu'ils s'épanouissent
Le poème est le lit d'une rivière par où coulent avec ses rumeurs et ses éclats brillant de lune ou d'étoiles le milion de fils colorés qui tissent notre humanité complexe et délicate.
Le poème est un cri libérateur une prière désaltérante le chemin tracé sur ma joue par la dernière de mes larmes l'énergie capable de tourner les jambes molles en assurance et mon isolement en communion avec les bateaux solitaires mes semblables dans la traversée entre les deux rives de l'océan
Le poème vient pour nous sauver de l'esclavage d'une vie d'automate en racontant la sensibilité humaine
Poem dictionary
The poem is the pickaxe to pierce the coldness of the hard and sterile rock the rock dry shield which we dress the soul believing to protect it these mineral walls prevent the air and the light from reaching our earth spirits so that they can flourish
The poem is the bed of a river through which flow with its rumors and its shining bursts of moon or stars the million colored threads weaving our complex and delicate humanity
The poem is a liberating cry a refreshing prayer the path traced on my cheek by the last of my tears the energy able to turn soft legs into assurance and my isolation in communion with the solitary boats my fellows in the crossing between the two shores of the ocean
The poem comes to save us from the slavery of a life of an automaton by telling the human sensibility
por princess road baixa un caudal de esquecemento que enlaza co río mersey pouco despois da gasolineira do co-op para desfacerse da memória no fondo do mar do norte abandona manchester polo sur do mapa como recordo escurrido que deixa as ruas do centro leves de pasado
no remanso tranquilo de highmarsh crescent en caixas de cartón aboian os meus recordos: as botas que asistiron ao rei león en madrid os inxénuos libros de poesía da adolescencia as inmensas aletas de buceo…
a forza imparable do esquecemento tira das caixas como un potente imán constantemente as manteño á miña beira mais nun descoido zas! lentamente se afastan se poñen fóra do alcance corren xa por nell lane acelerando cara ao baleiro
geography of oblivion
a flow of oblivion goes down princess road that shortly after co-op petrol station links with the river mersey to get rid of the memory at the bottom of the north sea it leaves manchester on the south side of the map like a remembrance drained that abandons the city center streets lightened from the past
in the quiet backwater of highmarsh crescent in cardboard boxes my recollection float: the boots that attended the lion king in madrid the naive poetry books of adolescence the immense diving fins… the unstoppable force of oblivion pulls the boxes like a powerful magnet
i constantly keep them by my side but in an oversight pow! they slowly move away put themselves out of reach they are already running down nell lane accelerating into the void
Coa forza só coa forza inesgotable dos meus brazos pedra a pedra e un día tras outro tras outro fun erguendo un monte pequeno de seixos feldespato, cuarzo e mica que paseniñamente foi medrando ata por fin aparecer nos mapas como unha cordilleira inmensa
como unha formiga, só corpo e instinto sen saber do acougo levantei esas montañas e cando tiveron o pucho posto vin que todo era materia morta e no meu interior nada tiña mudado sempre o mesmo mecanismo primitivo da nacencia
procurei acceso aos camiños de dentro nas bibliotecas do país das formigas literatura do mundo morto inorgánico xemoterapia para carrexadores de pedras que nada máis acaricia a capa máis externa da pel deixando a alma coa sua casca intacta
logo da tanta pedra e tanto libro descubrín que hai outros mundos pero non están neste
The ants
With the force only with the inexhaustible strength of my arms stone by stone and one day after another after another I was raising a small pile of pebbles feldspar, quartz and mica which slowly grew until it finally appears on the maps like an immense mountain range
like an ant, just body and instinct without knowing the peace I raised those mountains and when they were finished I saw that everything was dead matter and inside me nothing had changed always the same primitive mechanism of birth
I sought access to the paths within in the ant country libraries literature of the inorganic dead world gemmotherapy for stone porters which caresses just the outermost layer of the skin leaving the soul with its shell intact
after so much stone and so much book I discovered that there are other worlds but they are not in this one
Tombé dans le puit aux murs en béton trois dioptries se sont tout à coup décollées de mes yeux et tant dans la chambre d'hôtel qu'aux galeries du métro à peine j'arrive à distinguer mon besoin de reconnaissance
les blessures d'enfance enfin sèches la lumière peut venir m'assister dans ce fond aux parois lisses mes griffes vont aider à grimper en félin au lieu de chercher à tâtons les vaisseaux sanguins perdus aux fin fond des bois de souffrance
Childhood wounds
Fallen into the well with concrete walls suddenly three dioptres detached from my eyes and both in the hotel room and in the subway galleries I can barely distinguish my need for recognition
childhood wounds finally dried the light can come to assist me in this bottom of smooth walls my claws will help climb like a cat instead of groping for blood vessels lost in the depths woods of suffering
abel abilheira 