A mi hija
Luminosa,
mi hija rodea mi dedo
con
toda su mano mientras caminamos juntos
siempre sentiré ese anillo invisible, brillando
alrededor
de ese hueso , aun cuando vaya creciendo
lejos
del ahora como el lejos que ya se avizora en sus ojos.
To my daughter
Bright clasp of her whole hand around my finger
My daughter, as we walk together now.
All my life I’ll feel a ring invisibly
Circle this bone with shining: when she is grown
far from today as her eyes are far already.
El
dios de la guerra
¿Porqué
no puede la buena
Benevolente,
posible
Paloma
finalmente descender?
¿Y
ser el trigo compartido?
¿Y
los soldados enviados a casa?
¿Y
derribar las barreras?
¿Y
perdonar a los enemigos?
¿Y
dejar atrás las ofensas?
Porque
el conquistador
Es
victima de su propio poder
Y
su voluntad está forjada
En
el miedo de otros miedos:
Recordando
el ayer
Cuando
los que ahora vence
Destruyeron
a su padre-heroe
Y
arrullaron su cuna
Con
angustiosas fábulas.
Hoy
su sol de victoria
Esconde
la ansiedad de la noche
Para
que los niños de la matanza
Pongan
a prueba los dientes de dragón sembrados
En
el ocaso del sol
Para
levantarse mañana
En
un cielo y un mar ensangrentados
Y
vengar a sus padres de nuevo.
Aquellos
que se rinden
En
el desamparado campo
Pueden
soñar con razones piadosas
De
perdón, pero ellos saben lo que hicieron
En
el alto sol de su estación.
Porque
el mundo es el mundo
Y
no la gran matanza
Que
no absuelve al asesino
Ni
escribe historias
Con
finales de amor.
Porque
bajo las olas
Y
la fricción de las cadenas de la desesperación
La
necesidad de amor no cesa
The War God
Why cannot the one good
Benevolent feasible
Final dove, descend?
And the wheat be divide?
And the soldiers sent home?
And the barriers torn down?
And the enemies forgiven?
And there be no retribution?
Because the conqueror
Is victim of his own power
That hammers his heart
From fear of former fear--
When those he now vanquishes
Destroyed his hero-father
And surrounded his cradle
With fabled anguishes.
Today his day of victory
Weeps scalding lead anxiety
Lest children of these slain
Prove dragon teeth (sown
Now their sun goes down)
To rise up one morning
Stain the sky with blood
And avenge their fathers again.
The defeated, filled with lead,
On the helpless field,
May dream the pious reasons
Of mercy, but alas
They know what they did
In their own high seasons.
The world is the world
And not the slain
Nor the slayer, forgive.
There's no heaven above
To make passionate histories
End with endless love.
Yet under wild seas
Of chafing despairs
Love's need does not cease.
Why cannot the one good
Benevolent feasible
Final dove, descend?
And the wheat be divide?
And the soldiers sent home?
And the barriers torn down?
And the enemies forgiven?
And there be no retribution?
Because the conqueror
Is victim of his own power
That hammers his heart
From fear of former fear--
When those he now vanquishes
Destroyed his hero-father
And surrounded his cradle
With fabled anguishes.
Today his day of victory
Weeps scalding lead anxiety
Lest children of these slain
Prove dragon teeth (sown
Now their sun goes down)
To rise up one morning
Stain the sky with blood
And avenge their fathers again.
The defeated, filled with lead,
On the helpless field,
May dream the pious reasons
Of mercy, but alas
They know what they did
In their own high seasons.
The world is the world
And not the slain
Nor the slayer, forgive.
There's no heaven above
To make passionate histories
End with endless love.
Yet under wild seas
Of chafing despairs
Love's need does not cease.
Tomado del blog www.lamajadesnuda.com traductor desconocido
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