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
 
 

 

Salbatzaile bat bazen

 

Salbatzaile bat bazen

Radioa baino bakanagoa,

Ura baino arruntagoa, egia baino krudelagoa;

Umeak, eguzkitik gordean

Batzartu ziren bere ahoan

Entzuteko urrezko nota erritmo bihurtzen,

Beren desiren menpeko, giltza gabeko irrien ikas-kaioletan

Begiak zerratu zituzten.

 

Umeen ahotsak, dio

Oihan galdu batetik

Lasaitasuna zela egiteke bere ezinegon seguruan

Eta, oztopatzaileak gizakia,

Animalia edo txoria kolpatzean

Arnas hiltzaile hartan ezkutatu genituen geure beldurrak;

Isiltasuna, isiltasun egitekoa, lurra ozendu zenean,

Oihu latzaz gordeleku eta babes-etxeetan.

 

Loria zen entzuteko

Haren malko-elizetan,

Beso bigunaren azpian hasperen, berak igurtzi ahala;

Oi zu, negar ez zegikeena,

Lurrera jausirik, gizonik hiltzean!

Ezarri ezazu poz-malko bat uholde ikusezin hartan

Eta ipini musua hodei formako maskorraren kontra:

Ilunpean zu eta biok baino ez gaude jada.

 

Bi anai belztu, harro, negarrez,

Neguaz elkarrekin lotuak

Urte huts babesgabe honi;

Oi gu, mugi ez zezaketenak

Hasperen soil bat entzutean

Hurkoari jipoia, auzokoari sua, horren handinahia,

Baina kexu eta sehaskadun ginen pareta zeru-urdinean;

Orain malko erraldoi bat isuri dugu porrot ezezagunaz

 

Etxeen abailtzeaz,

Ez baitzituzten gure hezurrak jaso,

Aurkitu gabeen heriotza ausartak,

Begira orain, bakarrik guregan,

Geure ezezagun-hauts propioa

Sekulan inor sartu gabeko gure etxera isurtzen.

Geuregan deserriraturik, deitzen diogu karga eta armarik gabe

Arroka oro kiskaltzeko gai den zetazko maitasun lakar eta leunari.

 

There was a Saviour

There was a saviour / Rarer than radium, / Commoner than water, crueller than truth; / Children kept from the sun / Assembled at his tongue / To hear the golden note turn in a groove, / Prisoners of wishes locked their eyes / In the jails and studies of his keyless smiles. // The voice of children says / From a lost wilderness / There was calm to be done in his safe unrest, / When hindering man hurt / Man, animal, or bird / We hid our fears in that murdering breath, / Silence, silence to do, when earth grew loud, / In lairs and asylums of the tremendous shout. // There was glory to hear / In the churches of his tears, / Under his downy arm you sighed as he struck, / O you who could not cry / On to the ground when a man died / Put a tear for joy in the unearthly flood / And laid your cheek against a cloud-formed shell: / Now in the dark there is only yourself and myself. // Two proud, blacked brothers cry, / Winter-locked side by side, / To this inhospitable hollow year, / O we who could not stir / One lean sigh when we heard / Greed on man beating near and fire neighbour / But wailed and nested in the sky-blue wall / Now break a giant tear for the little known fall, // For the drooping of homes / That did not nurse our bones, / Brave deaths of only ones but never found, / Now see, alone in us, / Our own true strangers’ dust / Ride through the doors of our unentered house. / Exiled in us we arouse the soft, / Unclenched, armless, silk and rough love that breaks all rocks.