22 de junio de 2007



La espiga de la calamidad me ha derrotado.
Uno se apropia de lo ajeno perdiendo lo suyo

que es el propio propio,

su piélago de desdicha en las trincheras.

La vicisitud de pisar el suelo que piso
donde ya no es posible
que se evada la muerte.

Poema perteneciente al libro "Retablo de duelos".

2 comentarios:

Premio consuelo para Lucía Folino dijo...

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

Premio consuelo para Lucía Folino dijo...

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

este verso, aparece traducido por "piélago de calamidades", aunque siempre fue "un mar de problemas".

No entiendo a los glosadores de Shakespeare, que quieren hacerlo decir lo que él no dijo.
No imagino a un actor de teatro con una frase que es reclama ser leída en silencio.