Primero allá,
a la atracción irrefrenable,
hacia los restos aún salvables
que no comió la hierba.
Lay beside me,
enciende una vela;
yo lloraré el lago
que se congela.
We will feast ourselves
en el temblor cruel
de los colores fríos
que complementan
el recuerdo anaranjado,
la caída de las hojas
de coral endulzado
over your naked chest.
Tan pronto como acabes el invierno
y des por terminado el frío
y el negro,
I will take you for a ride
down a peaceful road (outside).
[—¿Un último pensamiento? —I asked.]
[—No, I think I’m fine.]
And you won’t get lost;
solos tú y yo.
[—Stay.]
[—I really genuinely don’t…]
[—Then I’ll be with you all the way.]
As soon as your winter is off
and you forego the dark
and the cold,
te llevaré a un paseo
por un camino sin dolor.
[—Any last thoughts?]
[Pero él dijo: —No.]
[And he was gone.]
For the sake of the beauty
I will persist.
Is there any change
in how I feel?
Tired,
lava,
milk.
Lo haré por mí
porque sé la pequeña magia,
el sentimiento denso,
el agitamiento inevitable
of that kind of bliss.
¿Es que acaso puedo no sentir?
¿Lo puedo revertir for this?
Stranger things could never change my mind,
neither my heart.
Hay sensaciones sencillas,
un aroma a vainilla,
el sonido desconocido
de una risa,
copos de nieve,
un ramo de manzanillas,
una pequeña caricia
que tranquiliza.
[I swear, if it flickered one second more…]
A todas sus preguntas
yo respondía «amor»;
but it was never enough.
So…
«everything must go.»
[Cause if it flickers one more time
I will just jump
or I’ll slit my throat.]
[I won’t
cause it’ll flicker no more.]
A todas las preguntas,
un hacha.
A todos los caminos recorridos,
un «basta».
Dirty and wild
from the rain last night,
he makes me dance
a su voluntad.
His current draws me in,
his waves push me back
and away, when he is mad.
And I just yearn
the soft atardecer,
the sweet evening light
en tonos pastel
that he reflects so well
when, at dusk, he is down
and calmed.
Of course I was mad
(I am)
contra mí,
nadie más.
Pero esa no es la palabra:
it was more like ‘dark‘.
(Yo no planeé
nada de esto).
I put a hoodie on,
black,
the headphones
a todo.
And I walked
al sonido de la determinación
en mi cabeza,
sintiendo que soy
ella,
a black-eyed
Helena,
a greedy
Sinatra,
a deadly
Magdalena,
y a la vez no.
I promise
I just feel
lucky,
and frágil,
affectionate
to the core.
Honestly,
I don’t know how to do this
if not with love.
(So, kill me, Sarah,
«it’s gonna be a glorious day».)
Not a big surprise,
you, shadow, night.
I must have known by now,
of course.
But still …
I’m told now
that love from you
then … just died.
I feel I should mark this day
on the cosmic records of ours,
you know, for the sake of her,
the lost asterist of the triad.
I saw that day
—that ancient past—,
I lost my mind.
I saw this day
—this present apart—,
it broke my heart.
(But I just stared at the evening light
—so clear and sweet, so calm—
and suffocate the pain inside.)
Thirty years passed tonight:
you flee.
And I’m sworn
to let you leave.
Maybe in time
you won’t want to be mine.
I don’t want el mañana to come
porque cancela el infinito
and I’m not sure what to do with that.
(But I will find out).
¿Do you hear the sirens
at the beginning y al final?
I swear to you
I hear them in my head
everytime since you commited
____.
And if you want the answer
to your question
that comes in so late,
then it is there.
Even when I say it’s not,
there’s the cause you search for.
Because I saw that day
and I lost my mind
again and again.
And I see this day,
the (de)finite one,
but, Lord, I’m fine.
La realidad alterna 