Claudio Rodríguez

Selig, der eines schönen Tages bescheiden
hinaus und die Straße hinuntergeht, wie an so vielen
Tagen seines Lebens, und es nicht erwartet
und plötzlich, Was ist das?, in die Höhe blickt
und sieht, das Ohr an die Welt legt und hört,
läuft, und zwischen seinen Schritten die Liebe der Erde
heraufsteigen fühlt, und weitergeht, und seine wahre
Werkstatt öffnet, und in den Händen glänzt
ihm sauber das Handwerk, und er gibt es uns
von Herzen, weil er liebt, und geht zur Arbeit
zitternd wie ein Kind zur Kommunion,
doch strotzend vor Glück, und hat er
schließlich begriffen, wie einfach
alles gewesen ist, schon verdient der Tagelohn,
kehrt er fröhlich nach Hause zurück und fühlt, wie jemand
an seine Tür pocht, und es ist nicht vergebens.

Joyful is he who one good day leaves, humble,
and saunters through the streets, like on so many past days
of his life, expecting nothing
and suddenly —what’s this? — he looks up
and can see; puts his ear to the world and he can hear;
walks and feels, climbing among his steps,
earth’s love, and goes ahead and opens
his true workshop, and in his hands
his craft shines, clean, and he offers it to us,
gladly because he loves, and goes to work
trembling like a small boy taking communion
bursting out of his skin, and then
realizing how simple
it’s all been —his wages earned already—
he comes back home, elated, and feels that it is someone
who is grasping the door knob, and it’s not all in vain.

Translation: ANABEL TORRES
In: CLAUDIO RODRÍGUEZ, CINCO POEMAS. poesía Hiperión
Madrid: Ediciones Hiperión, 2007

A HIGH WAGE

Happy the man who one fine day humbly goes out
and walks down the street, like so many
other days of his life, and he doesn’t expect it
and, suddenly, what is this?, looks up
and he sees, puts his ear to the world and hears,
walks, and feels rising between his steps
the love of the earth, and he goes on, and opens
his true workshop, and in his hands
his craft shines clean, and he passes it on to us
heartily because he loves, and he goes to work
trembling like a child taking communion
but really feeling satisfied, and when
he has finally realized how simple
it has all been, his daily wage now earned,
he returns home happy and he feels that someone
grasps his doorknocker, and it’s not in vain.

Translation: MICHAEL SMITH
In: CLAUDIO RODRÍGUEZ, CINCO POEMAS. poesía Hiperión
Madrid: Ediciones Hiperión, 2007

Ευτυχισμένος όποιος βγαίνει ταπεινός ένα ωραίο πρωί,
και προχωρά στο δρόμο, όπως και τόσες άλλες
μέρες της ζωής του, και δεν το περιμένει, και
ξάφνου, τι είναι αυτό; Κοιτά ψηλά και
βλέπει, στήνει αυτί στον κόσμο κι αφουγκράζεται,
και περπατά, κι ανάμεσα στα βήματα του νιώθει να φουσκώνει
η αγάπη της γης, και συνεχίζει, και ανοίγει
το αληθινό του εργαστήρι, και λάμπει στα χέρια του
καθάρια η τέχνη του, και μας την παραδίνει
από καρδιάς γιατί αγαπά, και πάει στη δουλειά του
τρέμοντας σαν το παιδί που κοινωνάει
και πλημμυρίζει από χαρά, κι όταν
αντιλαμβάνεται στο τέλος πόσο απλά
ήταν όλα, κι έχει κερδίσει πια το μεροκάματό του
γυρίζει σπίτι του χαρούμενος κι ακούει κάποιον
να χτυπά το ρόπτρο, κι αυτό δεν είναι μάταιο.

Heureux celui qui un jour part humblement
et s'en va de par les rues, comme tous les autres
jours de sa vie, qui ne s'attend à rien quand
tout à coup, surpris, regardant droit au ciel
il voit, tendant l'oreille au monde, il perçoit,
en avançant, que monte le long de ses pas
l'amour de la terre, marchant toujours, il ouvre
son cher atelier, dans ses mains son métier
brille bien propre, et c'est alors qu'il nous l'offre
de tout son cœur aimant, puis marche au travail
en chancelant comme un premier communiant
qui ne se tiendrait plus de joie, et après
quand il se rend compte finalement à quel point
sa journée a été simple, ses gages en poche,
il rentre content en sentant que quelqu'un
cogne pour lui à sa porte, et ce n'est pas en vain.

Beato chi un bel giorno esce in strada
come tanti umilmente se ne va,
giorni più della vita, e non lo aspetta,
e all’improvviso, che c’è?, guarda lassù
e vede, pone orecchio al mondo e ascolta,
cammina, e sente crescere fra i passi
l’amore della terra, e segue ed apre
il suo vero cantiere, e fra le mani
risplende puro il dovere, e ce lo offre
di cuore perché ama, e va al lavoro
tremando come un bimbo a comunione
ma senza stare nella pelle, e quando
si è accorto finalmente quanto semplice
sia stato tutto, con la paga in tasca,
torna a casa gioioso e sente che uno
afferra il catenaccio e non è in vano.

Išdidus tas, kuris nuolankus labą dieną išeina
pasivaikščiot į gatvę, kaip jau daugelį
kartų savo gyvenime, ir nieko nelaukia,
kai staiga —kas gi tai— žvelgia aukštyn
ir mato, prideda ausį prie pasaulio ir girdi,
eina ir jaučia žingsniuose kylant
žemės meilę, ir tęsia, ir atveria
savo tikrąją prigimtį, ir jo rankose
spindi švarus jo triūsas, ir įteikia jį mums
iš širdies, nes myli, ir eina į darbą
virpėdamas kaip vaikas, kurs priima komuniją
savam kaily jau nebetverdamas, ir kuomet
pagaliau susivokia, kaip paprasta visa,
kas buvo padaryta ir tai jau gautas atlygis,
sugrįžta namo linksmas ir jaučia, kad kažkieno
kumštis beldžias ir viskas neveltui.

Ditoso aquele que um belo dia sai humilde
e se vai pela rua, como tantos
dias da sua vida e sem esperar
e, súbito, o que é isto?, olha para o alto
e vê, põe o ouvido ao mundo e ouve,
anda, e sente subir em si entre os passos
o amor da terra, e segue, e abre
a sua oficina verdadeira, e nas suas mãos
brilha límpido o seu ofício, e entrega-o a nós
com o coração porque ama, e vai ao trabalho
a tremer como um menino que comunga
mas sem caber na pele, e quando
se deu conta por fim do simples
que tudo foi, a jorna ganha já,
volta a casa alegre e sente que alguém
empunha a sua aldraba, e não é em vão.

Блазе на онзи, който скромно излиза някой път
и отминава по улицата, както всеки друг
ден от живота си и нищо не очаква,
но изведнъж – какво е туй? – очи надига
и вижда, вслушва се в света и чува,
шества и в стъпките си чувства как напира
любов откъм земята, продължава, отваря
свойта права работилница и блясва
чист във ръцете му трудът и ни го дава
от все сърце, защото люби, и работата
среща с трепет, като дете – причастие,
ала ликува, и щом накрая осъзнае колко
просто било е всичко и спечелен е денят,
се връща весел у дома и там долавя,
че ще потропат на вратата му и няма да е всуе.