Poesia kaiera
Poesia kaiera
Seamus Heaney
itzulpena: Xabi Borda
2017, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-17051-05-1
Seamus Heaney
1939-2013
 
 

 

Aiduru den eskualdetik

 

 

                              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.