3.
Había
nevado. Recuerdo
música desde
una ventana abierta.
Ven a mí, decía el mundo.
Esto no
significa
que hablara
con oraciones precisas
sino que
yo percibía así la belleza.
Amanecer.
Una capa de humedad
en cada
ser vivo. Estanques de luz helada
formándose
en las alcantarillas.
Permanecí
en el
umbral,
por
ridículo que parezca.
Lo que
otros encontraban en el arte,
yo lo encontraba
en la naturaleza. Lo que otros encontraban
en el
amor humano, yo lo encontraba en la naturaleza.
Muy sencillo.
Pero no había ninguna voz allí.
El
invierno había terminado. De la mugre derretida
asomaba algo
de verde.
Ven a mí, decía el mundo. Estaba parada
con mi abrigo
de lana bajo una especie de portal luminoso—
al fin
puedo decir
hace tiempo; me produce un enorme placer. La
belleza,
la
sanadora, la maestra—
la muerte
no puede lastimarme
más de lo
que tú me has lastimado,
mi amada
vida.
De
‘October’
Louise
Glück, Nueva York, 1943
En Averno,
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 2007
Versión
© Silvia Camerotto
3.
Snow had fallen. I remember
music from an open window.
music from an open window.
Come to me, said
the world.
This is not to say
it spoke in exact sentences
but that I perceived beauty in this manner.
This is not to say
it spoke in exact sentences
but that I perceived beauty in this manner.
Sunrise. A film of moisture
on each living thing. Pools of cold light
formed in the gutters.
on each living thing. Pools of cold light
formed in the gutters.
I stood
at the doorway,
ridiculous as it now seems.
at the doorway,
ridiculous as it now seems.
What others found in art,
I found in nature. What others found
in human love, I found in nature.
Very simple. But there was no voice there.
I found in nature. What others found
in human love, I found in nature.
Very simple. But there was no voice there.
Winter was over. In the thawed
dirt,
bits of green were showing.
bits of green were showing.
Come to me, said
the world. I was standing
in my wool coat at a kind of bright portal —
I can finally say
long ago; it gives me considerable pleasure. Beauty
the healer, the teacher —
in my wool coat at a kind of bright portal —
I can finally say
long ago; it gives me considerable pleasure. Beauty
the healer, the teacher —
death cannot harm me
more than you have harmed me,
my beloved life.
more than you have harmed me,
my beloved life.
.
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