TRILCE - IVTRILCE - IV
César Vallejotrans. Rebecca Seiferle
Rechinan dos carretas contra los martillos
hasta los lagrimales trifurcas,
cuando nunca las hicimos nada.
A aquella otra sí, desamada,
amargurada bajo túnel campero
por lo uno, y sobre duras áljidas
pruebasespiritivas.

Tendime en són de tercera parte, 
mas la tarde - qué la bamos a hhazer-
se anilla en mi cabeza, furiosamente
a no querer dosificarse eri madre. Son los anillos.
Son los nupciales trópicos ya tascados.
El alejarse, mejor que todo,
rompe a Crisol.

Aquel no haber descolorado
por nada. Lado al lado al destino y llora
y llora. Toda la canción
cuadrada en tres silencios.

Calor. Ovario. Casi transparencia.
Hase llorado todo.Hase entero velado
en plena izquierda.
Two carts squeal against hammers
until the lachrymals trifurcate
when we never did anything to them.
To that other, yes, unloved,
embittered in the open tunnel
by the one, and into harsh algid
proofsinfusing spirit.

I stretched out in the manner of the third party,
much later - how will we f-f-fasten it? -
rings in my head, furiously,
not wanting to take doses of mother. The rings exist.
Tropic nuptials already threshing.
Withdrawing, better than all else,
cleaves the Crucible.

Which was not discolored
for nothing. Side by side by destiny, weeps
and weeps. The entire song
squared in three silences.

Caloric.  Ovary.  Almost transparent. 
All has been wept.All has been veiled
in the middle of the left hand.

Copyright © Rebecca Seiferle 1992, - publ. The Sheep Meadow Press


...buy this book
next
index
translator's next