Alicia García Núñez
translated from the Spanish. Corrections: Ricardo Hernando Carratalá
poem for a bear and a cat
I have the strength that I believe,
that I see myself jumping
through the fears
from a woman's back to another.
I use the grips when I want.
My nails were ready
after a punishment of more
than fifteen years,
I came to preserve them for one woman
and her Croatian origin.
You can see through my chest
in just one night:
she doesn't want to be exposed
to the pain, smell and beauty
of two
sleeping bodies
alone
- closer than sex,
harder than breaking my scheme
of the world,
my desire to be alone
that remains in me.-
To shake – to you.
You see me safe,
I have the strenght that I think
I have.
I get the shaking of the world
hand held in F major
-my hand in yours
is like a joke,
I show it to you, I put it,
just to see you smile
because of its size.
I'm small
and flexible.-
I have the strength of a bear
if I believe in me.
I have, I guess, the beauty
I should deserve marking my eyes
like black line and its outline.
I carry it printed in the retina.
It's clear to me
who I can choose
and who deserves
the absence of words,
empty set, it's mathematical:
I don't choose the beauty,
it chooses me
with any kind of data
for anyone else
who doesn't know,
or want,
poetry.
I know how to jump in the face of unease,
and how to climb up to all heights,
I go through the abyss when I run.
I assault fears at cold calls,
I am the wild child up
in any tree of this Slavic forest.
And then I know how to get down after two nights.
No need to call the fire department.
They charge.
I live the night as if it was the last day,
I meet shadows,
I challenge them on roofs.
I always win
although they kill me
a little more.
Roofs belong to cats,
no possible variant,
probably.
I want to see you smelling
any book with that animal instinct.
I have six lives watching over yours.
Six sustained F
My pupil dilates to
your exotic green cat's eyes, Slavic.
I possess the necessary uncertainty
to stay alive.
translated from the Spanish. Corrections: Ricardo Hernando Carratalá
poem for a bear and a cat
I have the strength that I believe,
that I see myself jumping
through the fears
from a woman's back to another.
I use the grips when I want.
My nails were ready
after a punishment of more
than fifteen years,
I came to preserve them for one woman
and her Croatian origin.
You can see through my chest
in just one night:
she doesn't want to be exposed
to the pain, smell and beauty
of two
sleeping bodies
alone
- closer than sex,
harder than breaking my scheme
of the world,
my desire to be alone
that remains in me.-
To shake – to you.
You see me safe,
I have the strenght that I think
I have.
I get the shaking of the world
hand held in F major
-my hand in yours
is like a joke,
I show it to you, I put it,
just to see you smile
because of its size.
I'm small
and flexible.-
I have the strength of a bear
if I believe in me.
I have, I guess, the beauty
I should deserve marking my eyes
like black line and its outline.
I carry it printed in the retina.
It's clear to me
who I can choose
and who deserves
the absence of words,
empty set, it's mathematical:
I don't choose the beauty,
it chooses me
with any kind of data
for anyone else
who doesn't know,
or want,
poetry.
I know how to jump in the face of unease,
and how to climb up to all heights,
I go through the abyss when I run.
I assault fears at cold calls,
I am the wild child up
in any tree of this Slavic forest.
And then I know how to get down after two nights.
No need to call the fire department.
They charge.
I live the night as if it was the last day,
I meet shadows,
I challenge them on roofs.
I always win
although they kill me
a little more.
Roofs belong to cats,
no possible variant,
probably.
I want to see you smelling
any book with that animal instinct.
I have six lives watching over yours.
Six sustained F
My pupil dilates to
your exotic green cat's eyes, Slavic.
I possess the necessary uncertainty
to stay alive.