un poema de luto
Redondo, gris liso
La paloma regresó al patio de piedra.
Llora cú curru cú cú.
Él camina hacia los arbustos.
Y yo también la veo.
Digo: Lamento mucho tu pérdida.
¿Por qué regresas?
Regreso para recordar.
La recuerdo volando a mi lado.
Recuerdo su cú u cú.
Recuerdo su dulce aroma.
Regreso para recordar veinte años con ella.
¿Te quedarás aquí mucho tiempo?
No lo sé. Nunca he perdido un amor.
Ojalá estuviera acostado a su lado.
Pero tenemos jóvenes casi listos para volar.
De nuevo llora cú curru cú cú.
Sale volando.
Un gusano dejado sobre su pecho.
TRANSLATION:
A Poem of Lament
Round, smooth grey,
the dove returned to the stone patio.
He cries, coo ah coo coo,
then walks toward the bushes.
And then I see her, too.
I say: I am so sorry for your loss.
But why do you return?
I return to remember,
to remember her flying beside me,
to remember her coo OO coo,
to remember her sweet scent.
To remember twenty years with her.
I worry: Will you stay here long?
I do not know. I’ve never lost a love.
I wish I were lying beside her,
but we have young ones near ready to fly.
He cries again, coo ah coo coo,
then flies.
A worm left on her chest.
(I woke imagining what happened to the birds from the other day and began writing about them, halfway through realizing it was in Spanish. Maybe influenced by Manny Grimaldi’s beautiful translation of Rafael Alberti’s Noturno Revisado from yesterday and then reading Pablo Neruda in Spanish? (Death stuff.) My translation of myself is too literal. But maybe something to play around with later?)
