o mar está en calma aínda que é inverno
Lara Dopazo Ruibal
o mar está en calma aínda que é inverno
aínda que hai temporal, o mar está en calma
fixo a vista e podo ver os gravados
nos muros de pedra
invisibles no pasar dos dedos
diante de min
un desfile de corpos que non me interesa
perdo volume co pasar dos días
perdo aire
pero o mar está en calma e só por iso, respiro
eu podo ser a seguinte. podo
perdelo todo sen apostar
e que iso explique o zunido nos oídos
a cópula frenética dos insectos antes de morrer
as pingueiras enriba da cama, que cruzan de auga
as paredes da casa
vén jacob coas súas trece tribos
apúntame cun cetro
di: por que non es feliz se eu si son feliz?
eu dígolle:
marcha. non quero lembrar o teu nome
deixa o cetro enriba do meu ventre e con el
domino ás bestas que me habitan no inverno.
pero o mar está en calma e as bestas
acougan
o desfile de corpos continua, pero eu
pídolles que saian da sala
sen miralos aos ollos
a sala é unha avenida enorme
tan grande
que non pode pertencer a esta cidade,
a ningunha cidade coñecida
quedo soa, naquela avenida de terra
co peito descuberto. agardo
a que veñan os cabalos
mandas de cabalos sen ferrar
a golpearme no peito
atravésanme de lado a lado
pero como estou soa podo chorar
os cabalos berran o meu nome e o nome
dos meus pais.
ameazan con romper os vidros que me cubren o corpo
pero eles saben que o mar está en calma.
aínda que eu chore
teño o útero roto en mil anacos
que recollo do chan e gardo sen orde.
no espazo do útero meto
unha folla seca
co meu nome escrito en tinta negra.
cos anacos de útero
tapo as fendas do tellado e dos muros da casa
protéxome da chuva
vou ao porto
coas marcas dos cabalos a sairme
por fóra da roupa. aparto os barcos coas mans
os barcos cargueiros inmensos
e choro de felicidade porque
a pesar do temporal
a pesar do inverno
o mar parece en calma
e só por iso, respiro
the sea is calm even if it’s winter
Translated by Laura Cesarco Eglin
the sea is calm even if it’s winter
even if there’s a storm, the sea is calm
i focus my gaze and i can see the engravings
on the stone walls
invisible to the passing of fingers
before me
a parade of bodies i’m not interested in
i lose volume with each passing day
i lose air
but the sea is calm and just for that, i breathe
i can be the next one. i can
lose it all without betting
and let that explain the buzzing in my ears
the frenzied copulation of the insects before dying
the leaks over the bed that cross the house’s
walls with water
jacob comes with his thirteen tribes
points at me with his scepter
says: why are you not happy if i am happy?
i tell him: leave. i don’t want to remember your name
he leaves the scepter on my belly and with it
i dominate the beasts that inhabit me in winter.
but the sea is calm and the beasts
quiet down
the parade of bodies continues, but i
ask them to leave the room
without looking at them in the eyes
the room is an enormous avenue
so big
that it can’t belong to this city,
to any well-known city
i am alone, in that dirt road
with my chest exposed. i wait
for the horses to come
herds of unshod horses
to hit my chest
they run over me, they run through me
but since i am alone i can cry
the horses shout my name and the name
of my parents.
they threaten to shatter the glass that covers my body
but they know the sea is calm.
even if i cry
my womb is shattered into smithereens
that i pick up from the floor and put away in disorder
in the space of my womb i put
a dry leaf
with my name written in black ink.
with the smithereens from my womb
i fill in the cracks on the roof and walls of the house
i protect myself from the rain
i go to the port
with the marks from the horses evident
even under my clothes. i move aside the ships with my hands
the immense cargo ships
and i cry with joy because
despite the storm
despite the winter
the sea seems calm
and just for that, i breathe
about the
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