Beste munduko poema

Kenneth Weisner

Hitaz egun osoz egiten zinat gogoeta,

urrundik, hodeiertzaren gainean

loak bere hatzamarraz bultzatzen hauen tokian

ene barnera gero eta areago...

alarma bera ere mozten dudanean

espazio ibiltarien bizihobia bezala,

itzuri egiten haiz

soros diezakenadan baino bizkorrago.

Oraindik, ispiluan pausatzen naun

gelan nonbait norbait

marmaraka balego bezala

edo intsektu batzu murtxikatuz...

Arraiki sartzen naizenean

bizitze errealaren arazoan berriro,

guztiz maitemindurik dagoen norbait bezala aritzen naun.

Hireak ditun ezpainak eta eskuak.

Berriz ikutzen ditudanean

gauza ezagunak —bitsa, ur beroa—.

nirekin hago oraino, loaren erregalu,

beste munduko opari.

Poem of the other world

The whole day think of you,

off in the distante, over the horizon

where sleep pushes you along with his finger

farther and farther finto me...

even as I cut the alarm

like the spacewalker's lifeline,

you slip away

faster than I can rescue you.

Still, I pause by the mirror as if somewhere

in the room someone

were whispering

or insects chewing...

As I gladly enter

the business of waking life again,

I act like someone deeply in love.

Yours are the lips and hands.

As I touch again

the familiar objects —lather, hot water—

you are still with me, gift of sleep,

gift of the other world.