NOCHE DE SUEÑOS
Yo sé a quién amo: sé que no me engañan
los fragmentos de sueños sucesivos
que aletean perdidos en la oscura
mañana en que despierto cada día
y que recojo con mis manos torpes:
en ellos vuelvo a verte, celebramos
un nuevo nacimiento del amor,
nos separamos mientras tu mirada
se adhiere, frágil y orgullosa,
a la mía como tantas otras veces.
Siento tu lengua en besos
que antes no sabías darme, acaso
porque ahora te invento como quise que fueras
o porque has aprendido, en este tiempo de ausencia,
a besar con el otro para hacerlo
mejor ahora conmigo, dejando que tu lengua
se enrede lentamente con la mía,
retirándola luego sin rudeza y entregándola
una vez más, más húmeda, con todo
el ardor que has guardado, si los sueños no engañan,
en todos estos meses para mí.
Un patio de colegio, una parada
de autobús en donde tres, cuatro personas
depositan de pronto un cadáver de rostro
desfigurado, acaso el del amor
que ha muerto y del que huimos
cogidos de la mano hacia una nueva vida.
Amar es olvidar
la vida sin amor que fue como la muerte.
(RAFAEL-JOSÉ DÍAZ)
Entradas
6 comentarios:
Precioso este poema... Lástima que me llega en un momento delicado de desamor (otra vez).
"Amar es olvidar la vida sin amor..."
En fin... Unos versos que hacen aflorar de nuevo la nostalgia.
Ah! y preciosa la fotografía que lo ilustra.
un besazo
ISIDRO
Que bonito y que triste a la vez... yo me quedo con la cita siguiente: Si no has conocido la verdad, no has conocido el amor.
Que tengas una genial semana. Besazos
My dear Javi querido,
Yes indeed, I took some time to come back to you again !
After all, Paris is not so far from Vigo or Pontevedra... :-o)
What a superb, healing Black-and-white picture !
I wish I could understand Spanish better in order to appreciate that poem !
In a very funny way, at night, I read a lot of poems too (but in German: Goethe, Schiller, Rilke, Novalis, Trakl, and Heine).
Besos, Kisses,
Antinous, Paris -
PS: Though I was busy, I did not forget you, far from that ! Recently, I saw there were elections in your Galicia region ! I wish I had seen you on TV ! :-o)
Amigo Isidro, esos desamores...pero tu tienes la fuerza para reponerte.
Te deseo todo lo mejor. Besos.
Esa cita esta muy bien, la tristeza es solo una estación.
Besos mi Alber.
My dear and good friend Antinous.
It is a pleasant surprise to see your comments on my blog, you really notice your absence.
Here's the translation, but translators are not very reliable, I hope you understand the affection with which you sent it.
Referring to the elections that little comment, and not a change for the better, but sometimes it is necessary for politicians to put the batteries and see that the social reality is another, and is in the street, not in the offices and studios.
Thanks for all the love she always noticed in your comments.
Kisses.
I know whom I love: I know that I do not cheat
successive fragments of dreams
flap that lost in the dark
morning wake up every day that
and gather with my clumsy hands:
them back to see you, welcome
a new birth of love,
we split up while your eyes
adheres, fragile and proud,
to mine, like so many other times.
I feel your tongue in kissing
I did not know that before, perhaps
because now you wanted you were like invention
or because you've learned in this time of absence
kiss with another to do
better now with me, letting your tongue
slowly tangling with mine,
then withdrawing it and returning it without rudeness
Once again, more wet, yet
the heat that you saved, if the dreams do not cheat,
in all these months for me.
A school yard, a stop
bus in which three, four
suddenly placed a faceless corpse
disfigured, perhaps the love
who died and from which we fled
hand in hand toward a new life.
To love is to forget
Life without love was like death.
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