Poesia kaiera
Dylan Thomas
itzulpena: Iker Alvarez
Poesia kaiera
Dylan Thomas
itzulpena: Iker Alvarez
2017, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-92468-97-3
Dylan Thomas
1914-1953
 
 

 

Loarekin adiskidetu nintzen

 

Loarekin adiskidetu nintzen eta hark garunean musukatu,

Denbora-malko bati erortzen utzi; lo datzan begiak,

Argira aldatuz norantza, ilargi baten gisara bira egin zuen niregan.

Orpo hegalariez, beraz, nire buruan zehar egin nuen hegan,

Erori, gero, ametsetan, behetik goranzko zeruan.

 

Lurretik ihes eta eguraldian gora egin nuen biluzik,

Izarretatik at bigarren zoru batera heldu arte;

Han negar egin genuen, nik eta mamutzako beste batek,

Nire amen begipean, adaburuen gainetik;

Luma baten arinez utzi nuen lur hori.

 

“Nire aiten globoak bere zilborra kolpatu eta abesten du”

“Ibiltzen dugun hau ere bazen zure aiten lurra”

“Baina honek aingeru konpainiak ditu barruan,

Eztiak dira haien aurpegi aitatu hegodunak”

“Hauek gizon ameslariak baino ez dira. Hats egin, eta badoaz”

 

Joan zen nire ukondoko mamua, amen begipean zetzana,

Aingeruei putz eginez galdu nintzenean

Itzal hilobi-zaindari bakoitzaren kostako hodeian;

Putz egin, eta ameskideak beren ohetara bidali nituen,

Oraindik lo baitautza bertan, beren mamuen berririk gabe.

 

Orduan aire bizidunaren materia guztiak

Deiadar egin zuen eta, hitzetan gora eginez,

Nire ikuskaria azaldu nuen eskuz eta ilez:

Hain arina da lurrezko izar honetan lo egitea,

Hain sakona mundutar hodeietan esnatzea.

 

Orduen eskailera luzatzen ari da eguzkirantz,

Bakoitzak galera edo amodio bat hots eginda aurrekoari,

Giza odolak neurri guztiak tximuturik.

Gizon zahar-ero bat bere mamuan gora oraindik,

Eurian gora egiten ari baita nire aiten mamua.

 

I fellowed sleep

I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain, / Let fall the tear of time; the sleeper’s eye, / Shifting to light, turned on me like a moon. / So, ’planing-heeled, I flew along my man / And dropped on dreaming and the upward sky. // I fled the earth and, naked, climbed the weather, / Reaching a second ground far from the stars; / And there we wept, I and a ghostly other, / My mothers-eyed, upon the tops of trees; / I fled that ground as lightly as a feather. // ‘My fathers’ globe knocks on its nave and sings.’ / ‘This that we tread was, too, your fathers’ land.’ / ‘But this we tread bears the angelic gangs, / Sweet are their fathered faces in their wings.’ / ‘These are but dreaming men. Breathe, and they fade.’ // Faded my elbow ghost, the mothers-eyed, / As, blowing on the angels, I was lost / On that cloud coast to each grave-gabbing shade; / I blew the dreaming fellows to their bed / Where still they sleep unknowing of their ghost. // Then all the matter of the living air / Raised up a voice, and, climbing on the words, / I spelt my vision with a hand and hair, / How light the sleeping on this soily star, / How deep the waking in the worlded clouds. // There grows the hours’ ladder to the sun, / Each rung a love or losing to the last, / The inches monkeyed by the blood of man. / An old, mad man still climbing in his ghost, / My fathers’ ghost is climbing in the rain.