poarrkal

KALEAN ERORI PAPERAK	PAPERS ON THE PAVEMENT
Rikardo Arregi	trans. Amaia Gabantxo (from Basque)
Eta asfalto bustian ziren islatzen kaleko argi desberdinak, iraunkorrak. Lipar batez bizi eta hil eta bizi planeta bakar baten begi ilunetan. Haizeak puzten ditu izara hezeak irudi abstraktuak osatuz temati. Eta gu bestaldean babesaren bila, eulia bezala negua iristean, eulia elur gorritan harrapaturik. Eta nori esan, edo nola, edo noiz, segundo batean ispilunk dakarren alkimia: eskalerik eskaleena. Egunero ordu beretsuan kalea zeharkatzen zuen huraxe, adibidez. Gogoan ditugu egun eta etxeak, egia atsegin genuen garai haiek. Busti ziren kalean erori paperak eta tinta nabarra zerien hitzei. Etorkizunetik datozkigu engoitik oroitzapenak.	And they burn into the wet asphalt, the reflections of the many street lights. Blinkingly they live and die and live in the dark glistening orb of a solitary planet. Fearless, the wind inflates the damp sheets sketching shapes. And we on the other side search shelter like flies in winter, flies entrapped in the bitter snow. And who will hear this, and when, and how to explain this sudden alchemy of mirror: this monstrous beggar? Maybe that very same person who crosses the street every day at the same time, that's who. We remember days and houses, an era when we were fond of truth. They got wet, my papers that fell on the pavement, turbid ink flew from the words, and as from now, memories here from the future.