Poesia kaiera
Adrienne Rich
itzulpena: Maialen Berasategi
Poesia kaiera
Adrienne Rich
itzulpena: Maialen Berasategi
2017, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-92468-95-9
Adrienne Rich
1929-2012
 
 

 

Amorruaren fenomenologia

 

                         1

 

Ero erabatekoak duen askatasun hori

bere erotasunean lohitu eta jostatzekoa

hatzak hortxe barruraino sartu eta

gelaren luzera idaztekoa

 

ez da noski zuk Broadway-n barna

izaten duzun askatasun hori

 

gelditu, bira egin edo aurrera jotzekoa

10 bloke; 20 bloke

 

baina inbidiagarri izango zaio agian

engaiatuta dagoenari

 

elikagarri behar zuen baina itogarri zaion

errealitatearen plazenta horretan katramilatuta.

 

 

                         2

 

Enbor heze erori bat sutu nahian ibili naiz

etxe honek zutik iraun duen artean:

makila lehorrekin ere txinpartarik ez

ezta arantzekin saiatuta ere.

Azken urtea bihurrituta, korapilatu ditut titular zaharrak,

baina arrosa hau loratzen ez.

 

Nola sentitzen da makinistak eskuak garbitzeko darabilen trapu-pila

tiraderan sartuta, orduak joan eta orduak etorri?

Beroaldian, egun oro,

belar-sorta bezain bero jartzen ziren.

Uzkurtu nintzen, iheslari,

belar onduaren epel goxo eztian

 

xuxurlatuz: Zatoz.

 

 

                         3

 

Neguaren muin laua.

Badatoz berriz ilargitarrak ilargitik

irten dira suhiltzaileak sutatik.

Denbora, gusturik gabe: denbora, erabakirik gabe.

 

Monotono bat buruan, norbere buruari gorroto.

Erbestean bizitako bizi baten azalekotasuna

baita herrialde beroetan ere.

Cleaver, labanaz betetako leiho bati begira.

 

 

                         4

 

Argi zuriak zatitzen du gela.

Mahaia.    Leihoa.    Lanpararen itzala.    Zu.

 

Nire eskuak, modu berri batean itsaskor.

Hilekoaren odola

zure ondotik isurtzen bezala.

 

Saiatuko al zaizkit epaileak esaten

zein ote zen zeinen odola?

 

 

                         5

 

Erokeria.    Suizidioa.      Hilketa.

Ez al da beste biderik?

Etsaia, begi-bistatik kanpo beti

elur-erraketetan hurrengo basoan, gorderik

elur-nahaspila batean, elur-panpina gorrotagarri,

behin izakirik suntsitzaile

eta iheskorrena izan zena

My Lai-n haurtxoei goitik tiroka

liskar bete-betean desagertzen.

 

Airearen eta ilunaren printzea

gorpuak zenbat diren zenbatzen, masturbatzen

egitateen

egindegian.

 

 

                         6

 

Hilketa-fantasiak: ez aski:

mina etetea da inor hiltzea

baina hiltzaileak min egiten du gero ere.

 

Ez aski. Amesten dudanean topo egin dudala

etsaiarekin, hau da nire ametsa:

 

azetileno zuria

uhinka nire gorputzetik

erraz-erraz askatua

ezin hobeto bideratua

egiazko etsaiarengana

haren gorputza garbatuz existentziaren

haritan

haren gezurra kiskaliz

mundu berri batean

gera dadin; gizon bat

aldatua

 

 

                         7

 

Bat-batean ikusi dut mundua

ez dela jadanik bideragarria:

kanpoan zaude uztak erretzen

sublimatu berriren batekin

Oraindik biona den ohe horretatik

irten zara goizean

eta hor joan zara ezina zabaltzera

munduan

 

Gorroto zaitut.

Gorroto dut zure maskara, zure begiak,

berez ez duten sakontasun hori

bereganatuak, bultzatzen nautelarik

zure kaskezurraren haitzulora

 

hezur-paisaiara

gorroto ditut zure hitzak

gogora dakarzkidate irudi

iraultzaile aizun horiek

gerra-zelaietan saltzen dituzten

imitaziozko pergamino lehorrak.

 

Bart gauean, gela honetan, negarrez

galdetu nizun: zer sentitzen duzu?

sentitzen al duzu ezer?

 

Orain, zure gorputzaren tolesturan

bizigai genituen soroak hostogabetzen ari zarela

badakit zein den zure erantzuna.

 

 

                         8

 

Mundu ertz-tolestua. Ilargi harrak jana.

Zilarrezko zehar-marradura zurbil bat

metalezko bahe baten antzo ur

beltzetan. Fenomeno horiek denak

behin-behinekoak dira.

 

Atsegin handiz biziko nintzen

andreen eta gizonen mundu batean alaiki

elkar hartuta hosto berdeekin, zurtoinekin,

hiri mineralak eginez, kupula gardenak,

belar ehunduzko etxolatxoak

zein bere eredura.

Konspirazio bat, existitzeko

Karramarro nebulosarekin, lehertuz doan

unibertsoarekin, Gogamenarekin batera…

 

 

                         9

 

Umeak eta beste emakume batzuk

baino ez ditut maitatu benetan.

Gainerakoa haragikeria zen, errukia,

autogorrotoa, errukia, haragikeria.

Emakume baten aitorpena da hori.

Orain, begiratu berriz aurpegira

Botticelliren Venusi, Kaliri,

Judith Chartresekoaren

irribarre ustezko horri.

 

 

                         10

 

gure bizitza nola erretzen ari garen

testigantza:

                 metroa

                 ziztuan Brooklyn-era

                 emakume bat, burua belaunetan

                 lo edo drogatuta

 

la vía del tren subterráneo

es peligrosa

 

                  asko, lo

                  bide guztian

                  beste batzuk, eserita

                  aireko su-zuloei begira

                  beste batzuek, matxinada buruan:

                  gaurik gau

                  kartzelan esna, nire buruak

                  koltxoia miaztu zuen, gar batek nola,

                  zelda-blokea orroka hasi zen arte

 

         Thoreau basoari su ematen

 

Kontziente bihurtzeko ekintza oro

(hala dio liburu honek)

ekintza antinatural bat da

 

The Phenomenology of Anger

1

The freedom of the wholly mad / to smear & play with her madness / write with her fingers dipped in it / the length of a room // which is not, of couse, the freedom / you have, walking on Broadway / to stop & turn back or go on / 10 blocks; 20 blocks // but feels enviable maybe / to the compromised // curled in the placenta of the real / which was to feed & which is strangling her.

2

Trying to light a log that’s lain in the damp / as long as this house has stood: / even with dry sticks I can’t get started / even with thorns. / I twist last year into a knot of old headlines / —this rose won’t bloom. // How does a pile of rags the machinist wiped his hands on / feel in its cupboard, hour upon hour? / Each day during the heat-wave / they took the temperature of the haymow. / I huddled fugitive / in the warm sweet simmer of the hay // muttering: Come.

3

Flat heartland of winter. / The moonmen come back from the moon / the firemen come out of the fire. / Time without a taste: time without decisions. // Self-hatred, a monotone in the mind. / The shallowness of a life lived in exile / even in the hot countries. / Cleaver, staring into a window full of knives.

4

White light splits the room. / Table. Window. Lampshade. You. // My hands, sticky in a new way. / Menstrual blood / seeming to leak from your side. // Will the judges try to tell me / which was the blood of whom?

5

Madness. Suicide. Murder. / Is there no way out but these? / The enemy, always just out of sight / snowshoeing the next forest, shrouded / in a snowy blur, abominable snowman / —at once the most destructive / and the most elusive being / gunning down the babies at My Lai / vanishing in the face of confrontation. // The prince of air and darkness / computing body counts, masturbating / in the factory / of facts.

6

Fantasies of murder: not enough: / to kill is to cut off from pain / but the killer goes on hurting // Not enough. When I dream of meeting / the enemy, this is my dream: // white acetylene / ripples from my body / effortlessly released / perfectly trained / on the true enemy // raking his body down to the thread / of existence / burning away his lie / leaving him in a new / world; a changed / man

7

I suddenly see the world / as no longer viable: / you are out there burning the crops / with some new sublimate / This morning you left the bed / we still share / and went out to spread impotence / upon the world // I hate you. / I hate the mask you wear, your eyes / assuming a depth / they do not possess, drawing me / into the grotto of your skull // the landscape of bone / I hate your words / they make me think of fake / revolutionary bills / crisp imitation parchment / they sell at battlefields. // Last night, in this room, weeping / I asked you: what are you feeling? / do you feel anything? // Now in the torsion of your body / as you defoliate the fields we lived from / I have your answer.

8

Dogeared earth. Wormeaten moon. / A pale cross-hatching of silver / lies like a wire screen on the black / water. Al these phenomena / are temporary. // I would have loved to live in a world / of women and men gaily / in a collusion with green leaves, stalks, / building mineral cities, transparent domes, / little huts of woven grass / each with its own pattern— / a conspiracy to coexist / with the Crab Nebula, the exploding / universe, the Mind—

9

The only real love I have ever felt / was for children and other women. / Everything else was lust, pity, / self-hatred, pity, lust. / This is a woman’s confession. / Now, look again at the face / of Boticelli’s Venus, Kali, / the Judith of Chartres / with her so-called smile.

10

How we are burning up our lives / testimony: / the subway / hurtling to Brooklyn / her head on her knees / asleep or drugged // la vía del tren subterráneo / es peligrosa // many sleep / the whole way / others sit / staring holes of fire into the air / others plan rebellion: / night after night / awake in prison, my mind / licked at the mattress like a flame / till the cellblock went up roaring // Thoreau setting fire to the woods // Every act of becoming conscious / (it says here in this book) / is an unnatural act