Poes韆s del nuevo siglo 526.牋 (Espa駉l)牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋a Alberto Hardoy.
Una bicicleta despintada.
Llegaste una tarde de oto駉
bajo venias de soldados eucaliptos
que amontonaban sobre la avenida
su saludo aristocr醫ico.
El techo del Valiant, celeste.
— omo el color de la bandera!
me dijiste medio en broma, medio en serio.
(緼lguna vez hablaste en serio, Alberto?)
Tengo aun la foto de ese d韆.
Una chimenea encendida,
una tarde que se escond韆
tras un ventanal empa馻do por el fr韔
y tres amigos
que separar韆 la vida.
Dos artistas:
Un primo amante
de una Turandot moribunda;
un mercader de Venecia
y yo, desde entonces,
expatriado de un universo que no existe.
Tres almas que se encontraron
en un instante eterno.
Todos los instantes son eternos,
todos son m醙icos,
nosotros los convertimos en olvidos.
Me ense馻ste los mejores colores
de la vida:
Tu sonrisa que jam醩 abandon?tu rostro.
Aquella distra韉a indiferencia
que en tu compasi髇 magn醤ima
repart韆s a manos abiertas.
El desinter閟 por los sustantivos propios
que te enriquec韆 con la simpleza
de una ma馻na en el campo.
Me presentaste un mundo innoble
que hasta t?ultimo d韆 solo te cedi?una arrogante indiferencia
(la misma que encontr?tantos a駉s mas tarde).
Te re韘te de aquella hipocres韆 patria
ense襻ndome a ser libre.
Artista, pintor,
bohemio de las tardes de Buenos Aires;
bebedor de mate en taza de porcelana.
Un potpurr?de perfumes ex髏icos
en una ciudad que aun no estaba lista
para tu 醨ea Wagneriana.
Viviste soportando?un dolor
que te llevaba fuera de 閜oca;
a tu propia 閜oca:
Atl醤tida ut髉ica,
para韘o de tantos h閞oes moribundos.
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋?
F.S.
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋?牋牋牋牋牋Dallas
26 de Abril, 2012.
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋?
Franco Sastre wordpress.com
Poems from a new Century. 526.牋 (English)牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋?
for Alberto Hardoy
An old bicycle.
You arrived during an autumn afternoon.
You arrived during an autumn afternoon.
Under the bowing of
eucalyptus’s soldiers
that piled up on the avenue
their aristocratic greetings.
The Valiant’s blue ceiling.
Like the color of the flag!
you said half jokingly, half seriously.
(Have you ever talked seriously, Alberto?)
I still have a photo of that day.
A roaring fire,
an evening?hiding
by a window pampered by the cold mist;
that piled up on the avenue
their aristocratic greetings.
The Valiant’s blue ceiling.
Like the color of the flag!
you said half jokingly, half seriously.
(Have you ever talked seriously, Alberto?)
I still have a photo of that day.
A roaring fire,
an evening?hiding
by a window pampered by the cold mist;
and three friends
that life would separated.
that life would separated.
Two artists;
a cousin; lover of a moribund Turandot;
a merchant of Venice;
and me; since then,
expatriate from an universe that does not exist.
Three souls that got together
in an eternal instant.
All instants are eternal;
all of them magical;
we turn them into oblivion.
You taught me the
best colors
of life:
Your smile that never left your face.
That distracted indifference
that with magnanimous compassion
you gave away with open hands.
The disregard for proper nouns
that enriched you with the simplicity
of a morning in the field.
You introduced me an ignoble world
that until your last day only presented you
of life:
Your smile that never left your face.
That distracted indifference
that with magnanimous compassion
you gave away with open hands.
The disregard for proper nouns
that enriched you with the simplicity
of a morning in the field.
You introduced me an ignoble world
that until your last day only presented you
with an arrogant indifference
(I found the same one many years later).
You laughed at that homeland hypocrisy
teaching me to be free.
(I found the same one many years later).
You laughed at that homeland hypocrisy
teaching me to be free.
Artist, painter;
bohemian of the afternoons of Buenos
Aires;
drinker of mate in porcelain cup.
A potpourri of exotics perfumes
in a city that was not ready
for your Wagnerian song.
You lived supporting a pain
that took you out of time;
your own time.
Utopia, Atlantis;
paradise for so many moribund heroes.
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋?牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋燜.S.
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋 Dallas, 26th,
April, 2012.
牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋牋
Franco Sastre wordpress.com
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario