Traducción del poema Escupe de (Cuadernos del Hedonista LVR) para el Anuario de Poesía de San Diego 2016/2017). Orgullo estar junto a tantos buenos poetas y poemas.
Gracias a Beatriz Sánchez-Moraleda por su perfecta traducción.
Spit it Out
translation by BEATRIZ SÁNCHEZ-MORALEDA
Spit it out, dying animal,
eject all that black thing that's behind your eyes,
throw all that garbage you bury deep in your soul,
throw everything out,
spit it out,
you know life has imagined you,
and you also know you are nothing to the world.
and now spit it out,
throw it out,
without further ado,
do it,
and do not lie to yourself,,
with all probabilities the world is not going to be over now, neither the day you die,
spit it out,
throw everything out,
throw it up,
but put all your heart into that,
put all your talent on,
all your beauty,
put the best of you,
eject it,
do not be afraid of remaining empty,
because you have so much to vomit,
do not keep anything,
throw everything out,
you are afraid of being wrong,
but even more afraid of the opposite,
spit it out,
throw all that darkness out,
today the death could be me,
so love me & fulfill me with poetry,
fill me to the brim ,
pour all your existence out,
make me love you,
make me hunt you,
but you must throw everything out,
make me fall silent,
make me absorb you,
throw it out,
vomit it,
just by doing this you will be empty to receive life, to receive the poetry,
ready to occupy it,
and it looks like you have so much poetry to vomit, there is so much light out there,
yes,
now you are ready, only now you are ready.
Oh, poets!
you must know your days have a complicated pattern, you must know our vomit is just an arrogance,
but throw up my beautiful angels,
oh, my pretty poets!
throw everything up,
throw everything out,
just by doing this we will know how to occupy the poetry, as occupying it is like an inevitable suicide,
the world does not need us,
let's then shelter all that nothingness to excess,
to infection,
to the point of exhaustion,
until there is nothing left
from ourselves
upon the poem.
make me absorb you,
throw it out,
vomit it,
just by doing this you will be empty to receive life, to receive the poetry,
ready to occupy it,
and it looks like you have so much poetry to vomit, there is so much light out there,
yes,
now you are ready, only now you are ready.
Oh, poets!
you must know your days have a complicated pattern, you must know our vomit is just an arrogance,
but throw up my beautiful angels,
oh, my pretty poets!
throw everything up,
throw everything out,
just by doing this we will know how to occupy the poetry, as occupying it is like an inevitable suicide,
the world does not need us,
let's then shelter all that nothingness to excess,
to infection,
to the point of exhaustion,
until there is nothing left
from ourselves
upon the poem.
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