Poetry by Pedro Granados

With Sasha Reiter and Isaac Goldemberg I translated recent work by Pedro Granados. The book is Amerindios, and it is available now.

This is one of the more successful translations, I think:

To see someone age
Like a style, like a song
Like a movie that at the exit
Left you remains of inspiration
Strength pride
Isn’t nearly what you’ll feel later
Before the head tilts down
And the breath subsides
And you don’t believe what you see
And even less what you’re doing:
Laying the body out
And joining hands that seem distant
While her heart still watches you.
Between time past
And the farthest future
Hanging on
Turn-sick amid what we are
And what our mother is
And her piston
And the carousel of her arms
To look
In distraction and suffering
Through what is mine all my own
Or in disquiet
At an open hand
A butterfly or hummingbird
Flutters around us and makes us laugh
I’m writing but not to you
It’s redundant
I’m repairing the umbilical cord
That’s broken
And buried
And to this I stick
Because it’s how things are going
And because I’ve come to old age
My dog all restless
Scrutinizes my head
Puts his ear to my gaze
Auscultates my tears
Calms down finally
Moves his tail softly
And vanishes like a lizard

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