dígitos

Un poema que he olvidado escribir
Es sobre las estrellas,
Cómo las veo en su posición
Aún sin la silla y la osa mayor,
En su presencia astronómica del gran espacio,
Y cómo más allá y detrás de mis ojos se mueven,
Reventando en espirales bajo extrema presión.
Sin saber matemáticas, mi cabeza
Explota de angustia por no entender.

El poema que olvido escribir son fragmentos lanzados
De una víctima torturada, lejos de mí
En su galaxia de mentes que lo aplastan
En el olvido de su visible estado
Desplomada y explotando de forma incomparable
Como una estrella, aún presente en su luz
Eso olvido escribir.

(traducido por la autora de este blog)

tally

After her pills the girl slept and counted
Pellet on pellet the regress of life.
Dead to the world, the world's count yet counted
Pellet on pill the antinomies of life.

Refused to turn, the way's back, she counted
Her several stones across the mire of life.
And stones away and sticks away she counted
To keep herself out of the country of life.

Lost tally. How the sheep return to home
Is the story she will retrieve
And the only story believe
Of one and one the sheep returning home

To take the shapes of life,
Coming and being counted.

curtain

a picture window opening to the west
is curtained in the morning; from the outside
it´s a closed room. From the inside,
gloom. The sun collaborates,
west gray in shade.
Now I must ask you whether a leaf of sun
will gradually cast its tentative light within
or whether you will proceed across the floor
pull back the drapes and look into the day
as if you would renew it? From the outside
a scene of limitless shape, a chandelier
bathed in reflection, each corner
each morning
as if the furnished action had no  fear
to act again.