while inside there’s only silent calm
no wind, no gusts, no leaves drawing spirals in the night
there’s only chill within this frosted walls
only dust suspended frozen in the void
hours like wine running down the sink
days like water melting down from ice
looking out for something hidden in the dark
searching deeply through the rotten roots of dying trees
run behind thee, just go and catch it
or maybe
listen to the stars
this once.
el delirio por tu boca
y el afán incansable de saber
lo que por las noches escondías
ese continuo golpeteo
del reloj contra los días
de tu aliento en mi cerebro
cuántas revelaciones al filo de la almohada
cuántos los versos
y las oraciones incompletas
uno el momento esperanzado
que de tan ansiado otorgara
dos o tres abismos inmensos
que explorar
toda la desilusión
para hurgar los huecos más oscuros
y años aún para ensayar
alguna vaga interpretación
cuántos los sueños rotos
que arrastraran paradigmas
cuántas las heridas
que marcaran un sendero
cuántas las razones
los procesos
los idiomas los momentos
todo ayer para que hubiera un hoy
el camin es troba sol
dice que debo de tirarme a un pozo
la razón dice que debo conquistar el pozo
mi programación cultural-televisiva dice que debería sentarme a admirar el pozo
la literatura ha mencionado casos en que gente ha logrado robarse el pozo
al final lo único que sé es que frente a mí hay un pozo y es imposible ignorarlo…
si dijese que he visto cosas?
y mi piel de pez despierta
{ no hay batir de murciélagos ni sombra de luciérnagas
a)
i still owe you plenty of lies,
all sewed with silver threads
where salty drops once used to slide.
and i thought i just wouldn’t do
without you being fair and fond enough
to choose me among everything else.
b)
i’m so basic deep inside
i want everything every other human being does want;
yet doesn’t matter how much
i could listen to the same old songs
or could i just torture myself on brand new ones,
now there’s nothing for me to claim
nor use to cry,
you got no wind for me to spread my wings
[to pause my fears] and fly.
c)
is so ridiculously breath-taking to be
so smile-sweeping with so little effort,
and even though you’re not a rogue
and never meant to save me from
the ghosts that haunt me;
there you’ll be
singing someone else’s lyrics,
until I quit wandering in the night.
d)
facts are roots and mine grew up,
reaching clouds where
you no longer lay down smelling daisies
for you wouldn’t travel the world around
nor would I be too pron to ask you to;
or spend nights listening
how your beat changes speed,
like telling stories from another bed.
e)
some truth is
I tried to change you into who I wanted,
and despite how long I tried to stop craving
the touch of any other stranger through your hands;
i could never
be happy enough to love you for who you are.