La decisión
I
¿Qué
agita al ojo sino lo invisible?
Escapar
de Dios es la carrera más larga.
Un
pájaro me perseguía cuando era joven–
el churrinche es lento
para apagar su canto,
no podía sacarme ese
sonido de la cabeza,
el adormecido sonido de
las hojas en el suave viento.
II
¡Levantarse o caer es
una misma disciplina!
¡Se achica la línea de
mi horizonte!
¿Cuál es el camino?, le
grito a la negra,
cambiante sombra, las
cenizas en mi espalda.
¿Cuál es el camino?,
pregunto y me dispongo
como un hombre enfrentando
a la nieve que se acerca.
Theodore Roethke, Saginaw,
Michigan, 1908-Bainbridge Island, WA, 1963
De The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke, Doubleday, 1961
Versión ©Silvia
Camerotto
imagen de Dapacou, The Invisible Painting, en Famous Masterpieces
The Decision
I
What shakes the eye but the invisible?
Running from God’s the longest race of all.
A bird kept haunting me when I was young–
The phoebe’s slow retreating from its song,
Not could I put that sound out of my mind,
The sleepy sound of leaves in a light wind.
Running from God’s the longest race of all.
A bird kept haunting me when I was young–
The phoebe’s slow retreating from its song,
Not could I put that sound out of my mind,
The sleepy sound of leaves in a light wind.
II
Rising or falling’s all one discipline!
The line of my horizon’s growing thin!
Which is the way? I cry to the dread black,
The shifting shade, the cinders at my back.
Which is the way? I ask, and turn to go,
As a man turns to face on-coming snow.
The line of my horizon’s growing thin!
Which is the way? I cry to the dread black,
The shifting shade, the cinders at my back.
Which is the way? I ask, and turn to go,
As a man turns to face on-coming snow.
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