Anna Crowe
english
Restes
Ho escolto en l’abraçada.
Potser encara no ho sap. Hi ha els ulls, però,
hi ha els ulls, tan vora els meus que se m’escapen,
i l’altra mà, la del consentiment,
que juga sorda, lluny, desemparada.
És com si m’ho digués, mentre ens besem,
com si amb els llavis m’avancés la brama
dels cent petits sorolls del comiat:
la porta, el cop, les passes per la grava,
l'udol trencat del gos, germans tots dos
abandonats com quan l’estiu s’acaba.
Se’n va, se n’anirà. M’endinso a cegues
en el mal temps del cos que n’ha quedat.
From: Final de festa
Proa, 1989
Audio production: Institut Ramon Llull
Remains
I hear it in our embrace.
Maybe she doesn't yet know. But there are her eyes,
there are her eyes, so close to mine I can't see them,
and her other hand, the consenting hand,
playing, deaf, far-off, all on its own.
It is as though she were telling me, while we kiss,
as though with her lips the rumour came to me
of a hundred small sounds of goodbye:
the door, slamming, the footsteps crossing the gravel,
the broken howl of the dog, both of us brothers
abandoned as when summer is at an end.
She is going away, she will go. Blindly I immerse myself
in the bad weather of the body that has stayed behind.