RARA MATERIA | RARE MATTER |
Rafael Felipe Oteriño | trans. Brian Cole |
Rara materia que no cedes razones. Si tocas el labio del amor es para herirlo, si llamas al pensamiento es para dejarlo secar. Cede alguna vez: regresa a tu reino oscuro. No es justo tu veneno restregando sed a los sueños, incertidumbre al corazón, crecimiento a las secretas mutilaciones. Cede alguna vez: demasiado conoces. Ciega, pestilente, enancada en la noria de la ilusión, aléjate del humano olor que destila nuestra debilidad: materia, rara materia. |
Rare matter that does not give reasons. If you touch the lip of love it is to bite it, if you call on thought it's to make it dry up. Give way once more, return to your dark realm. Your venom is unjust, rubbing thirst into dreams, uncertainty into the heart, growth for secret mutilations. Give way once more, you know better. Blind, pestilent, clinging on to the waterwheel of illusion, keep away from the human smell that our debility distils: matter, rare matter. |
Copyright © Rafael Felipe Oteriño 1980; trans. copyright © Brian Cole 2004