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Main | Café Tal »

Voy a nombrar las cosas


Voy a nombrar las cosas, los sonoros

altos que ven el festejar del viento,

los portales profundos, las mamparas

cerradas a la sombra y al silencio.


I’m going to name things. Sonorous

mountains that look upon the festival of wind.

Deep passages. Shutters

closed in shade and silence.


Y el interior sagrado, la penumbra

que surcan los oficios polvorientos,

la madera del hombre, la nocturna

madera de mi cuerpo cuando duermo.


And the sanctuary within. The half-light

that marks dusty practices.

The wooden image of a man. The 

wood of my body when I sleep.


Y la pobreza del lugar, y el polvo

en que testaron las huellas de mi padre,

sitios de piedra decidida y limpia,

despojados de sombra, siempre iguales.


And the poverty of the place. The dust

in which are traced the footsteps of my father.

Stone places clean and resolved.

Empty of shadow. Always the same.


Sin olvidar la compasión del fuego

en la intemperie del solar distante

ni el sacramento gozoso de la lluvia

en el humilde cáliz de mi parque.


Without forgetting the compassion of fire

in all the elements of solar space. 

Nor the sacrament of rain falling

into the cupped hands of my garden.


Ni el estupendo muro, mediodía,

terso y añil e interminable.

Nor that stupendous mural of noon.

Blue and polished and unending.


Con la mirada inmóvil del verano

mi cariño sabrá de las veredas

por donde huyen los ávidos domingos

y regresan, ya lunes, cabizbajos.


With the immutable gaze of summer

my beloved will know the paths

where Sundays flee like lovers.

And return, Mondays now, downfallen.


Y nombraré las cosas, tan despacio

que cuando pierda el Paraíso de mi calle

y mis olvidos me la vuelvan sueño,

pueda llamarla de pronto con el alba.


And I’ll name things so slowly

that when I lose the paradiso of my street

and oblivion turns her into dream

I’ll be able to call to her suddenly at dawn.


                         — Eliseo Diego, 1949




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