But Then, How Am I To Say It? Translation Of Carlos Bousono's Poem: Pero Como Decirtelo
But then how am I to say it since you insist on being
so light and quiet
like a flower. How will I tell it to you
when you are the water,
when you are a fountain, spring, a smile,
a(n) ear of wheat, wind,
when you are the air, love.
How can I say it
to you, incipient lightning,
early light, dawn,
that you will have to die one day
like somebody not here any more.
Your eternal form
like light and the sea, scarcely lays claim
to the enduring majesty
of matter. Beautiful
like the permanence of the ocean
against whatever will hold it back; your flesh is more ephemeral
than that of a flower. But if you’re
comparable to light, (that’s because) you are the Light,
the light that would express itself
(and) which would say: « I love you! »
that you would sleep in my arms,
that you would be thirsty: eyes, tiredness
and be possessed of an infinite need
to cry, when you see
the roses in the garden
blooming, once all over again.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013