Pues eso, amigos, que algunos poemas de mi Cuaderno de los sueños fueron traducidos al inglés por el poeta americano Matt McBride , y han aparecido en el ejemplar de Julio/2014 de la revista Asymptote en la que puede escucharse igual mi voz leyendo las versiones originales.
Aquí les maestro la versión inglesa de “Mirándola dormir”
Watching Her Sleep
I have read in your ear that the straight line doesn't exist.
Gilberto Owen
Like my voice, my tongue seeks
the labyrinth of your ear
and I write to you and know very well
that there is something—there is a place—more beautiful
than your womb
though I have never seen it.
Instead, they reveal themselves
—deliverers of foam, cubs of light—
your sweetbread feet.
And not knowing how you appeared, not having lived
at the time that your back was the rose, open light
of what you mean.
Outside I hear something.
Outside of the poem a song tells you something
more beautiful than your skin
but also more alive: a caress: tongue underneath
language,
sound underneath the letters
in the act of looking for you.
When did you pierce through me? When was your light
—fire, burning—nailed to my chest?
Now I can write a verse in which you never die.
A chalice, a pitcher, something which can contain
a mad wine, dancing, fruit
slow
flesh moving
to enter other flesh.
Believer of your way, in my prayers
I have decided not to give in to the language of your navel,
to the summer flowers
of your nipples, to all of your scents.
Today I don't want to die: I don't want to see the river
that sleeps in your wrists. I don't want to walk
the way in which you spread your skin until your skin
is the skin of everything that exists.
Tree of myself,
I am approaching your most fertile region.
Los poemas en ambos idiomas, y el resto de la revista pueden ser consultados haciendo click aquí
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