Benvolgut
Benvolgut, permet-me suposar
que, malgrat que no haguem gaudit de presentació oficial,
més o menys, així com jo, estàs assabentat
de la meva existència, de les coses que faig.
Benvolgut, jo ho reconec, què hi faré, covard de mi,
no és que siguis cada tarda el meu tema preferit,
vostres són les promeses que ningú ja complirà,
vostres les nits que els telèfons no paraven de sonar.
Però sí que et vaig veient en discos que al final no et vas endur
i alguns quina meravella, i alguns que mai tindràs prou lluny,
benvolgut, i en un somriure que fa sola caminant
i en aquella foto antiga oblidada en un calaix:
heu parat una furgoneta aprofitant la vista privilegiada d'una ciutat.
Tu assenyales l'absis romànic d'una catedral i sou joves i forts!
I sentiu l'eternitat al vostre davant!
I, benvolgut, ni sospiteu que gent com jo
estem esperant.
I que simpàtics que se us veu, i quin mal devia fer,
i m'ho imagino -o ho intento- i t'asseguro que comprenc
que encara avui, sense remei, tot trontolli un segon
quan un amic, amb bona fe, pronuncia el vostre nom.
Però vull pensar que tot va bé i que no enyores aquells temps,
que fins i tot en recordar no saps per què però estàs content
i vas veient coses pel món que t'estan agradant tant
i agraeixes que entre els dos em féssiu créixer amagat.
Amagat en mentidetes, en dubtes emprenyadors,
en cada intuïció fugaç d'una vida millor,
amagat en "som molt joves per tenir res massa clar",
amagat en "no sé què és, però, nena, no puc respirar".
Ai, benvolgut, que estrany si un dia et van fer mal
el meu amor, la meva sort, les meves mans
o el meu dit resseguint-li la columna vertebral!
Benvolgut, que ha arribat i es vol quedar!
Ai aquests dits, no són senzills, de gent com jo
que estava esperant.
Benvolgut, ho deixo aquí, que sé que ets un home ocupat.
Suposo que és moment d'acomiadar-me esperant
no haver-te emprenyat massa, no haver semblat un boig,
que la força ens acompanyi, adéu, fins sempre, sort!
Per si un dia ens creuem ja em disculpo, que em conec,
faré d'home seriós, esperaré darrere dret
mentre tu li fas brometa, "veig que ara els busques alts",
mentre tu et reivindiques com molt més elegant.
Farem adéu i marxarem i ella em dirà que t'ha vist vell
i, pas a pas, ja estaràs tan lluny
com el cretí que abans d'entrar a Història li tocava el cul
arrambant-la contra els arbres del costat d'un institut.
Ai, pobrets meus, com s'haguessin espantat,
si entre els matolls, sortim tu i jo dient
"ei, aquí els senyors, estem esperant.
Xicots, aneu fent lloc,
que estem esperant".
dear
Dear, let me guess
that, despite the fact that we have not enjoyed an official presentation,
more or less, as well as me, you know
of my existence, of the things I do.
Dear, I admit it, what will I do, coward of me,
it's not like you're my favorite topic every afternoon,
yours are the promises that no one will keep anymore,
your nights when the phones didn't stop ringing.
But I did see you on records that in the end you didn't take
and some what a wonder, and some you will never have far enough,
dear, and in a smile that she makes alone while walking
and in that old photo forgotten in a drawer:
you have parked a van taking advantage of the privileged view of a city.
You point to the Romanesque apse of a cathedral and you are young and strong!
And feel eternity before you!
And, dear, don't even suspect that people like me
we are waiting
And how nice you look, and how bad it must have been,
and I imagine it - or I try to - and I assure you that I understand
that even today, without a remedy, everything wobbles for a second
when a friend, in good faith, says your name.
But I want to think that everything is fine and that you don't miss those times,
that even when you remember you don't know why but you are happy
and you're seeing things around the world that you're liking so much
and you appreciate that between the two of you you made me grow up hidden.
Hidden in lies, in scheming doubts,
in every fleeting intuition of a better life,
hidden in "we are too young to be too clear about anything",
hidden in "I don't know what it is, but baby, I can't breathe."
Oh dear, how strange if you were hurt one day
my love, my luck, my hands
or my finger tracing his spine!
Beloved, who has arrived and wants to stay!
Alas, these fingers, they are not simple, from people like me
that was waiting
Dear, I'll leave it here, I know you're a busy man.
I guess it's time to say goodbye to waiting
not to have worked too hard, not to have looked like a madman,
may the force be with us, goodbye, see you forever, good luck!
In case we meet one day, I apologize, I know myself,
I'll be a serious man, I'll wait right behind
while you tease him, "I see you're looking high now,"
while you claim to be much more elegant.
We'll say goodbye and leave and she'll tell me she saw you old
and, step by step, you will be so far
like the cretin who before entering History touched his ass
tearing it against the trees next to a high school.
Alas, my poor fellows, how they had been frightened,
if you go into the bushes, you and I come out saying
"hey here gentlemen we are waiting.
Guys, make room,
that we are waiting for."