Poesia kaiera
Aurkibidea
Aurkibidea
I
Aukerako aldarteen lurraldean errotuta bizi ginen
etsipenezko hodei-sarda garai baten azpian.
Gure aldian ez esaldiaren baitako galera zurrumurrua,
Zaindu edo Gorde Gaitzazu otoi egitean etendako zainak,
goresgarri ziren, egun harekikoak egiteko adina.
Urtean behin zelai zabal batean biltzen ginen
dantzarako oholtzak eta karpak zituena
non umeek antzinako hizkuntzan buruz ikasitako abestiak abesten baitzituzten.
Ermandadean borrokan ibilitako enkante-gizon batek
jakin bagenekizkien irainak
zerrendatu zituen, baina berak ere,
nire ustean, ez zituen haiek ekintzarako deitzat hartzen.
Bozgorailuek burdinazko ahoz airea inarrosten zuten,
baina inor ez zen asaldatzen. Lehendik bagenekiena berretsi zigun.
Ereserki matxinoarekin elkartze hari amaiera ematean
etxerantz abiatu ginen eta errepide kontroletan
ordu estrak egiten ari ziren militarren ohiko jazarpenera.
II
Eta hurrena, bat-batean, aldarte aldaketa hori.
Liburuak zabalik argindarra iritsi berriko sukaldeetan.
Bizitza esne behien saihetsean
lozorroan eman zezaketen buru gazteak lanpeturik zebiltzan
zoladura jarriz eta euren lehenbiziko harbideak marrazten
testu preskribatuen bitartez. Gero etorriko ziren
galtzada-harri errektangularrak eta aginterazko
gramatika, demanden aro berri bat.
Baldintzera betirako uxatuko zuten,
Gure “de profundis”
intzirietako garaipenari soraio zitzaizkien belaunaldikoek.
Eutsiz irabazi egingo genuen ustea
anatema bihurtu zuten, inteligentziek distira egin zuten
palankek bezain zakar.
III
Gogorrena dirudienak behar baino gehiago iraun du.
Behetik gora datorrenarena da etorkizuna.
Arrazoia ematen ziguten baieztapen hauek
epelkeriaren aingeru guardakoa zen
isilpeko nagusiaren babesean bizi ginenean,
mehatxuzko betortza sartzen didate orain bizkarrean.
Neure kolkorako “abaildua” hitza errepikatzen dut
eta buruhas zutik nago tximista metalikoek
azpilduriko hodei-sardaren azpian.
Xafla landuen gaineko mailukadak ditut ments,
lemazainaren txosten arteza,
jakiteko gure artean bat badela senak agindutako
bide zuzenetik inoiz urrundu ez zena,
indikatiboan iraun zuena,
erauntsiaren erdian bere txalupak gora egingo duena.
From The Canton Of Expectation
I
We lived deep in a land of optative moods, / under high, banked clouds of resignation. / A rustle of loss in the phrase Not in our lifetime, / the broken nerve when ive prayed Vouchsafe or Deign, / were creditable, sufficient to the day. // Once a year we gathered in afield / of dance platforms and tents ivhere children sang / songs they had learned by rote in the old language. / An auctioneer ivho hadfought in the brotherhood / enumerated the humiliations / we ahvays tookfor granted, but not even he / considered this, I think, a call to action. / Iron-mouthed loudspeakers shook the air / yet nobody felt blamed. He had confirmed us. / When our rebel anthem played the meeting shut / we turnedfor home and the usual harassment / by militiamen on overtime at roadblocks.
II
And next thing, suddenly, this change of mood. / Books open in the neivly wired kitchens. / Young heads that might have dozed a life away / against theflanks of milking cows were busy / paving and pencilling theirfirst causeways / across the prescribed texts. The paving stones / of quadrangles came next and a grammar / of imperatives, the new age of demands. // They would banish the conditional for ever, / this generation born impervious to / the triumph in our cries of de profundis. / Ourfaith in winning by enduring most / they made anathema, intelligences / brightened and umnannerly as crowbars.
III
What looks the strongest has outlived its term. / The future lies with what's affirmed from under. / These things that corroborated us ivhen ive dwelt / under the aegis of our stealthy patron, / the guardian angel of passivity, / now sink afang of menace in my shoulder. / I repeat the word ‘stricken' to myself / and stand bareheaded under the banked clouds / edged more and more with brassy thunderlight. / I yearnfor hammerblows on clinkered planks, / the uncompromised report of driven thole-pins, / to know there is one among us who never swerved / from all his instincts told him was right action, / who stood his ground in the indicative, / whose boat will lift when the cloudburst happens.