El Temblor
Subirá el azogue en cada estancia
Si nos ven entrar como elefantes perdidos
En busca de otro derrotero
Quizá más inocente, menos resentido
Que no se desviva en lo vivido
Que muera buscando un horizonte nuevo
No comimos nada: Contamos veinte
Con el mercadeo más urgente, danzaron
Las uñas de los taberneros
Repletas de planetas, de tabaco y plata
De la libertad que desbarata los sueños
De aquellos que nunca durmieron
Tan harto de ternura y de tanta picadura, amor
Ungido, me abracé al rugido que me enamoró
Después, me encomendé a la bruma
Que puebla el último atolón
Que enviuda y amanece, muda, con nuestro temblor
Volverá el temblor
De la retirada, no fuimos hijos
Fuimos la palabra y entresijos dorados
La levantera y el calambre
Nos queda la certeza de sabernos vivos
Nunca vencedores ni vencidos; regados
Por lo que queda del estambre
¡Qué hartura de tormento, tormenta tierra adentro, amor!
Me cansa la caricia mansa de su resplandor
Que abrasa aquel renglón torcido
Que se vistió de perdedor
Si yerra, me hablará la tierra, y llegará el temblor
Volverá el temblor
The Tremor
The mercury will rise in every room
If they see us enter like lost elephants
In search of another path
Perhaps more innocent, less resentful
That doesn't fade in what has been lived
That dies seeking a new horizon
We didn't eat anything: We counted twenty
With the most urgent bargaining, the tavern keepers danced
Their nails
Full of planets, tobacco, and silver
Of the freedom that shatters dreams
Of those who never slept
So full of tenderness and so many stings, love
Anointed, I embraced the roar that enchanted me
Then, I entrusted myself to the mist
That populates the last atoll
That becomes a widow and dawns, silent, with our tremor
The tremor will return
From the retreat, we were not children
We were the word and golden intricacies
The strong wind and the cramp
We are left with the certainty of knowing ourselves alive
Never victors nor vanquished; watered
By what remains of the thread
What a surfeit of torment, storm inland, love!
The gentle caress of its radiance tires me
That burns that twisted line
That dressed itself as a loser
If it errs, the earth will speak to me, and the tremor will come
The tremor will return