Mario…

  Se calló la voz, queda la poesía…

"El arma de un intelectual es la escritura, pero algunas veces, la gente reacciona como si fuese un incendiario"."Un escritor puede hacer mucho para modificar la situación, pero ninguna dictadura ha caído, hasta donde yo sé, a causa de un soneto"

"An intellectual’s weapon is writing, but sometimes people react as if it were a firearm,"."A writer can do a lot to change the situation, but as far as I know, no dictatorship has fallen because of a sonnet."

NO TE SALVES

No te quedes inmóvil
al borde del camino
no congeles el júbilo
no quieras con desgana
no te salves ahora
ni nunca
no te salves
no te llenes de calma

no reserves del mundo
sólo un rincón tranquilo
no dejes caer los párpados
pesados como juicios

no te quedes sin labios
no te duermas sin sueño
no te pienses sin sangre
no te juzgues sin tiempo

pero si
pese a todo
no puedes evitarlo
y congelas el júbilo
y quieres con desgana

y te salvas ahora
y te llenas de calma
y reservas del mundo
sólo un rincón tranquilo
y dejas caer los párpados
pesados como juicios
y te secas sin labios
y te duermes sin sueño
y te piensas sin sangre
y te juzgas sin tiempo
y te quedas inmóvil
al borde del camino
y te salvas
entonces
no te quedes conmigo.

Don´t Save Yourself

Don’t Save yourself,
Don´t be immobile
On the edge of the road,
Don’t freeze the joy,
Don’t love with reluctance,
Don’t save yourself now
or ever,
Don’t save yourself,
Don’t fill with calm,
Don’t reserve of the world
Just a calm place,
Don’t let fall your lids
Heavy as trials,
Don´t speak without lips,
Don’t fall asleep without sleepiness,
Don’t think of you without blood,
Don’t judge yourself without time.

But if in spite of everything
You cannot avoid it
And you freeze the joy,
And you love with reluctance,
And you save yourself now,
And you full with calm,
And you reserve of the world
Just a calm place,
And you let fall your lids
Heavy as trials,
And you speak without lips,
And you fall asleep without sleepiness,
And you think yourself without blood,
And you judge yourself without time,
And you are immobile
On the edge of the road,
And you save yourself,
Then
Don’t stay with me.

Táctica y estrategia

Mi táctica es
mirarte
aprender como sos
quererte como sos

mi táctica es
hablarte
y escucharte
construir con palabras
un puente indestructible

mi táctica es
quedarme en tu recuerdo
no sé cómo ni sé
con qué pretexto
pero quedarme en vos

mi táctica es
ser franco
y saber que sos franca
y que no nos vendamos
simulacros
para que entre los dos

no haya telón
ni abismos

mi estrategia es
en cambio
más profunda y más
simple
mi estrategia es
que un día cualquiera
no sé cómo ni sé
con qué pretexto
por fin me necesites
 

Tactic And Strategy

My tactic is
Looking at you,
Learning how you are,
Loving you as you are,
My tactic is
Talking to you
And listening to you
To build with words
An indestructible bridge
My tactic is
Remaining in your memories
I don’t know how
Nor with which pretext
But remaining with you.
My tactic is
Being frank,
And knowing that you are frank,
And not selling each other
Simulations
So that between us
There is no curtain
Nor abyss.

My strategy is,
However,
Deeper and
Easier,
My strategy is
That one of these days
I don’t know how
Nor with which pretext
You finally
Need me.

Still

I can´t still believe it,
You are arriving to my side
And the night is a handful
Of stars and happiness.

I feel, taste, listen and see
Your face, your long step,
Your hands and, however,
I can´t still believe it.

Your return has so much
In common with you and me,
That, because I guess it I say it,
And because of the doubts I sing it.

No one ever could replace you
And the most trivial things
Become fundamental,
Because you are arriving home,
However I still
Doubt of this good luck,
Because the pleasure of having you
Seems to me like a fantasy.

But you come and it is sure
And you come with your gaze,
And for that reason your arrival
Makes the future magic.

And although I have not always understood
My blames and my breakdowns,
On the other hand I know that in your arms
The world has sense.

And if I kiss the audacity
And the mystery of your lips
There won’t be doubts nor misunderstandings,
I will love you much more.

Let´s Make A Deal

When you feel your wound about to bleed
When you feel your voice about to sob
Count on me.

Partner,
You know
You can count
On me
Not up to two
Or up to ten,
But count
On me.

If sometimes
You notice
That I look into your eyes
And a vein of love
You recognize in mine
Don’t alert your rifles
Nor think "what a delirium",
In spite of the vein
Or perhaps because it exists
You can count
On me.

If several times
You feel me
Unsociable without reason
Don’t think "what a slack",
The same way you can count
On me.

But let´s make a deal,
I would like to count
On you,
It is so nice
To know you exist,
One feels alive
And when I say this
I mean count
Even though it´s up to two
or even though it´s up to five,
Not to make you come
Hasty to my aid
But to know
certainly
That you know you can
Count on me.

 

If I Could Choose My Landscape

If I could choose my landscape
Of memorable things, my landscape
Of lonely Autumn,
I would choose, I would steal this street
That is previous to me and to all.

She returns my useless gaze,
The one of fifteen or twenty years ago
When the green house was poisoning the sky.
For that reason it is cruel to leave it in this sunset
With so many balconies as lonely nests
And so many steps hoped more than ever.

Here there will always be, here, the enemies,
The soft spies of the loneliness,
Women legs that carry my eyes
Far from the quadratic equation.

Here there are birds, rain, some death,
Dry leaves, horns and lonely names,
Clouds that are growing in front of my window
While humidity brings laments and flies.

However past also exists
With their sudden roses and modest scandals,
With their hard sounds of any anxiety
And their insignificant itch of memories.

Ah if I could choose my landscape
I would choose, I would steal this street,
This recently grown dark street
The one I bloodily revive in
And the one of which I know with strict nostalgia
The number and the name of its seventy trees.

Mario Benedetti                                 



                                                                                                


  

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