Monday, January 11, 2016

PILAR RODRÍGUEZ ARANDA



UNA FAMILIA MÁS


Se encarna    
                     El secreto 
Secreta un olor sedoso y turbio
Una gangrena oscura y grave
La carne pierde su color
La piel se torna ensueño                  
Se toca
                     El secreto
Es una adicción a voces
Una garganta de múltiples niveles 
La textura sabe del dolor
El hueso suena hueco
Se entierra
                     El secreto 
No se coloca una cruz ni lápida
Uno olvida el lugar donde quedó
La memoria es un campo minado
La pierna pisa sin prisa
Avanza sin saber                             
Explota
                     El secreto
No queda nada más que él
No se reconoce en su deceso
La muerte huele a niñez perdida
El oído ya no escucha
Se monta
                     El secreto
Hecho humo y polvo lo cubre todo
La sangre recorre   
Se escurre en las calles
La ternura se encostra en cenizas    
Se entume
                     El secreto
No siente ni calor ni miedo
El ojo vierte
Una sequía interminable
La lágrima es cosa de otro mundo
La tristeza es extranjera
Se queda
                     El secreto.








ONE MORE FAMILY
                                             
It embodies itself
                                 The secret
Secrets a silky and murky smell
A dark and grave gangrene
The flesh loses its color
The skin turns into daydream
It touches itself
                                 The secret
It’s an open addiction
A multiple level throat
The texture knows of pain
Hollow sounding bone
It buries itself
                                 The secret
No cross or tombstone placed
One forgets the place where it rests
Memory is a minefield
The leg treads unrushed
Unknowingly moving forward
It explodes
                     The secret
Nothing else left but it
Won’t recognize itself in its decease
Death smells like lost childhood
The ear hears no more
It mounts itself
                                 The secret
Made into smoke and dust covers all
Blood travels
Drains off on the streets
Tenderness scabs in ashes
It goes numb
                                 The secret
Feels no warmth nor fear
The eye spills
An endless drought
The tear is something unearthly
Sadness, a naturalized alien
Remains
                                 The secret.


                     --- Pilar Rodríguez Aranda


Pilar Rodríguez Aranda, Mexico City, 1961. Poet, award-winning video artist, and translator. Her poems are in dozens of magazines and anthologies in the American and European continents. She is also an ARTivist, a 100 ThousandPoets for Change, organizer in Mexico, and a member of the Writing forPeace Advisory Panel. *This poem translated from the original Spanish by the author.

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