Jose Angel Valente: Spain, 20th century

 

Pero no más allá, no debo herirte, no debo herirte más cuando me acerco con palabras de amor hasta los bordes.

But let there be no more, I must not wound you, I must not wound you again, when I approach too close to your borders with my words of love.

Pero no debo herirte...                                         A veces cuando me acerco a ti con tanto amor escondo en lo profundo un áspid, un veneno, un agudo cuchillo que ignoraba y que hiere el amor donde más duele.

But I must not wound you...                                             For at times when I come close to you with so much love I hide in me, in my depths, an asp, a poisonous snake, a sharpened knife I did not know was there which seeks to wound the tenderest part of love.

A veces pongo esta palabra: pan, sobre la mesa y suena a muerte, pongo la palabra amistad y alguien levanta el brazo armado para defenderse.

From time to time I put this word "bread", on the table and it sounds like death; I put the word "friendship" down, and someone raises a shielded arm as guard in self-defence.

Oienso en amor y algo tus labios hiere, pronuncio luz y legos gime el día; algo que mata el corazón oculta, algo que entre el amor yace y de pronto puede matar, herir cuando no quiero.

I think about love, and something wounds your lips, I say "light", and far away the day moans; something that to the heart is death is hidden, something that enters love lies there and can too soon bring death, and wound when I do not want.

Cuántas veces he dicho vida y cuántas tal vez muerte escondía sin saberlo, cuántas habré cegado la esperanza, cuántas, creyendo luz, habré arrojado palabras, piedras, sombras, noche y noche hacia el sol que amo tanto.

How many times have I said "life", how many perhaps was death in hiding, unknown to me, how many times have I darkened the eyes of hope, how many, believing it light, have I thrown words like stones, like shadows, night and night again against the sun I love so much.