Jacob Rhodes
english
La pedreta
Tinc una pedreta blanca
sobre el palmell de la mà.
Que coses deuria dir-me,
si entengués el seu parlar!
Deu sentir-se forastera
entre els terrossos del camp;
potser ve de roques altes
destrossades per un llamp,
i les aigües de neu fosa
l’han arrosegada aquí.
No sé si per ella és vida,
haver-se trobat amb mi.
Per mi és una trobada
que no sé com valorar.
La veig tan polida i neta...
No la gosaré llençar.
From: El meu món de poesia
Vilanova i la Geltrú: El cep i la nansa, 2011
Audio production: El cep i la nansa
The pebble
I have a white pebble
on the palm of my hand.
Such secrets it could tell me,
if only I could understand!
It must feel like an outsider
amongst the field’s clods of earth;
perhaps it comes from higher terrain
splintered by lightning,
and the waters from the thawed snow
have dragged it down this way.
I cannot know if this is the life it wants,
having come all this way.
This is a perchance meeting
whose value I cannot say.
Yet, it seems so clean and brightly polished…
I dare not throw it away.