miércoles, 20 de enero de 2016

Millenium Bridge - (Translation)

From Cuaderno de Belfast - Dublín

With this obsession (so you)
of sitting on bridge parapets
you want to show me dream snippets
floating by
and I turn my head
just to discover that the Liffey
pollutes us with its sluggishness,
with the reflux of the drunkards,
with Sunday strolls
doomed to be flooded
in uncried tears.

You also sit on windowsills
perching over your own ambiguity
and you wave at the street
or gesticulate at the vapour on the glass,
writing on door frames
as though Ariadne gave up her trade as weaver
and soiled whiteness.

But Ulysses was deaf
and could not hear the sirens,
he crossed the streets in a hurry
and swang on the bridge
until the tide turned.

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