Poesia kaiera
Ondorengoak
Gaztaroa bekatu samurretan eman genuen,
amodio txepel apur baten trukean, eta
sarri pentsatu genuen kolpatuta geundela, baina
mina ez zen gugan irauteko gai, ez ubeldurak ere
gure edertasun hotza orbaintzeko edo, are,
arinki hondatzeko. Eguraldi orotan egon gara,
iltzaturik; ez, ordea, gurutzeei, ezpada ohe bigunei,
forma bigunagoen kontra, aztoramendu eta dardara
ordu samurrak igaroan zirela erdi ilunabar, erdi goiz alba,
erdi amets, erdi benetako herstura batean. Gu ginen
amoremaileak, edozertara errendituz geure buruak.
Ez dagokigu guri umetoki-paretak arraspatzea
oroipen bila, ezta heriotza auzitan jartzea ere;
alta, nola haurrak amaren besoei, geure buruak
suari emango dizkiogu, edo lur gosetiari, poliki
jan gaitzaten, irentsi. Inor ez da bere gurutzetik jaitsiko
guri zauriak erakustera; ez zaigu hizketan hasiko
isiltasunean galdu jainkorik; ez amodio galdurik
gutaz galdezka; ez, ez gaituzte sekula
salbatuko, edo berrituko.
The Descendants
We have spent our youth in gentle sinning / Exchanging some insubstantial love and / Often thought we were hurt, but no pain in / Us could remain, no bruise could scar or / Even slightly mar our cold loveliness. / We have lain in every weather, nailed, no, not / To crosses, but to soft beds and against / Softer forms, while the heaving, lurching, / Tender hours passed in a half-dusk, half-dawn and / Half-dream, half-real trance. We were the yielders, / Yielding ourselves to everything. It is / Not for us to scrape the walls of wombs for / Memories, not for us even to / Question death, but as child to mother’s arms / We shall give ourselves to the fire or to / The hungry earth to be slowly eaten, / Devoured. None will step off his cross / Or show his wounds to us, no god lost in / Silence shall begin to speak, no lost love / Claim us, no, we are not going to be / Ever redeemed, or made new.