Fragmento del libro Nadie. Un himno al mar / Alice Oswald

Hay tantos pájaros y la mayoría no significa nada

pero algunas veces un alcatraz

sale de un nido desprolijo de algas marinas

salta

lejos hasta esas piedras y se detiene

como haría una mujer recordando a su hijo

pero ya está señora nada va a cerrar esa herida

a menos que su mente aturdida

logre coser el agua al viento con su cabeza puntiaguda

o es solo su fantasma que gira y gira

con un resto de azul

y nunca una idea de dónde ponerlo

o es solo ese poeta que camina va y viene

soñando rumores sobre el primer beso

zumbando en los labios papel cazamoscas de esos amantes.

Alice Oswald
Versión de Roberto Guareschi

There are so many birds and most of them mean nothing

but once or twice a gannet

from a nest of slovenly seaweed

hops

as far as those stones and stops

as a woman would remembering her son

but once or twice a gannet

from a nest of slovenly seaweed

hops

as far as those stones and stops

as a woman would remembering her son

but it is done madam nothing will close that wound

unless your shaken mind moving your pointed head

can stitch the water to the wind

or is it only her ghost going round and round

with a remnant of blue

and never a clue where to place it

or is it only that poet pacing to and fro

dreaming up rumours about the first kiss

buzzing on those lovers’ flypaper lips