De paso
en otro pueblo costero
le tiras piedras al mar
a ver si te habla
si te confiesa de una vez
el secreto
la fórmula exacta para amortiguar
tantos días
de vaivenes
de caderas como péndulos
y barcos sin coordenadas.
Y entonces murmuras
como quien tiene un presagio
que la vida es esto.
Estar aquí, de paso
ajenos a las ciudades futuras.
Passing through
another coastal town
you throw stones at the sea
to see if it will answer
if it finally confesses
the secret
the precise formula for blunting
all these seesaw days
of hips like pendulums
and of stranded ships.
And then you mutter
like someone with a premonition
that this is life.
Being here, passing through
foreign to the cities of the future.
Hasta dormida
se desboca por los portales
va tras los rastros
que dejas en los azulejos
como quien recorre las llanuras
de un país abandonado
en busca de la ternura de antes.
Even in her sleep
she bolts through portals
chasing after the traces
you've left in azulejo tiles
like one who wanders the plains
of an abandoned country
searching for lost tenderness.
Sé que gravitas
entre un puerto soñado y el presente
archipiélago de soles dispersos
sonámbula te veo vagar
bastón en mano
amenazando presencias grises.
I know you oscillate
between a dream port and the present
archipelago of dispersed suns.
I watch you sleepwalk
roaming with your cane
threatening gray shadows.
Translations by Roque Raquel Salas Rivera.
Kadiri Vaquer Fernández is a Puerto Rican poet, translator, and professor of Spanish language, literature and culture currently living in Monterey Bay. She has published three collections of poetry, Andamiaje, Ritos de pasaje and Si no vuelve el verano, plus the translation of the anthology Literary Works by 10 Dominican Women edited by Kianny Antigua, and the poetry collection All that Was Future by Iliana Pichardo Urrutia.
en otro pueblo costero
le tiras piedras al mar
a ver si te habla
si te confiesa de una vez
el secreto
la fórmula exacta para amortiguar
tantos días
de vaivenes
de caderas como péndulos
y barcos sin coordenadas.
Y entonces murmuras
como quien tiene un presagio
que la vida es esto.
Estar aquí, de paso
ajenos a las ciudades futuras.
Passing through
another coastal town
you throw stones at the sea
to see if it will answer
if it finally confesses
the secret
the precise formula for blunting
all these seesaw days
of hips like pendulums
and of stranded ships.
And then you mutter
like someone with a premonition
that this is life.
Being here, passing through
foreign to the cities of the future.
Hasta dormida
se desboca por los portales
va tras los rastros
que dejas en los azulejos
como quien recorre las llanuras
de un país abandonado
en busca de la ternura de antes.
Even in her sleep
she bolts through portals
chasing after the traces
you've left in azulejo tiles
like one who wanders the plains
of an abandoned country
searching for lost tenderness.
Sé que gravitas
entre un puerto soñado y el presente
archipiélago de soles dispersos
sonámbula te veo vagar
bastón en mano
amenazando presencias grises.
I know you oscillate
between a dream port and the present
archipelago of dispersed suns.
I watch you sleepwalk
roaming with your cane
threatening gray shadows.
Translations by Roque Raquel Salas Rivera.
Kadiri Vaquer Fernández is a Puerto Rican poet, translator, and professor of Spanish language, literature and culture currently living in Monterey Bay. She has published three collections of poetry, Andamiaje, Ritos de pasaje and Si no vuelve el verano, plus the translation of the anthology Literary Works by 10 Dominican Women edited by Kianny Antigua, and the poetry collection All that Was Future by Iliana Pichardo Urrutia.
