Anna Crowe
inglês
Roses
el venedor pakistanès ofereix roses tristes
els clients del restaurant li giren la cara i interposen la mà
l’home de camisa blanca cabell negre i pell llunyana
els destorba
entra en un bar de copes on els combinats estoven les parelles
i ven sis roses
roses captaires que accepten la voluntat
les cuines tanquen els aparcaments es buiden
recolzat a la persiana d’un local encara tebi
llisca fins a la vorera
la lluna tampoc duu monedes
i en el silenci de la matinada
espera escoltar les passes d’una parella
que no temi obrir la cartera enmig del Raval
i li compri les darreres roses
abans que morin sense sentir-se flors
Extraído de: La meva mare es preguntava per la mort
Lleida: Pagès , 2012
Produção de áudio: Catalunya Ràdio
Roses
the Pakistani vendor holds out dejected roses
the customers in the restaurant turn away and ward him off with a raised hand
the man in the white shirt with black hair and foreign skin
disturbs them
he goes into a bar where the cocktails soften the couples drinking
and sells six roses
beggar roses that bow to any wish
the kitchens are closing and the car-parks are empty
leaning against the shutter of premises that are still warm
he slides down on to the pavement
the moon has no coins either
and in the silence of early morning
he waits listening out for the footsteps of any couple
who might not be afraid to open their wallet in the middle of the Raval
and who might buy his last few roses
before they die without having felt they were flowers.