Poesia kaiera
Poesia kaiera
Kamala Das
itzulpena: Joxe Mari Berasategi
2026, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-19570-67-3
Kamala Das
1934-2009
 
 

 

Ur ertzeko bisontea

 

Nork dio ezkontzak soilik biren kontua izan

behar duela? Nirearen giro epela ez zitzaion

zor gizon bakarrari, ezpada biri;

bi maizterkide desberdin

gela estu batean:

bata sorbatzaren bizkar samurra,

bestea aho zorrotza.

Bai, bestea benetan gogorra zen;

begi txikietan desira eta heriotza zeuzkan,

baina zuztarrak bota nituen haren leiho koskan

eta kaktus basa setati bihurtu nintzen,

sinetsiz, sinetsiz, euritan

zer xede sekreturi segika

joaten nintzen haren atera,

elkarrekin kulunka, elkarrekin zanbulu

egitera, korridoreko ispiluaren ondoan.

Baina gero, etxera itzuli eta bidezko ohean

nentzala, gizonari besoez oratu ezinik

loari ere oratzen ez niola,

isiltasuna marmarti jausten entzuten nuen

nola jausten den harea zuria, eta,

gau luzeetan, ilargiaren haloa zahartzen

eta herdoiltzen ikusi nuen. Baina

zergatik kontatu berriz ipuin hil bat?

Apenas datorren harira orain.

Isiltasunezko harea pilen pean dautza ehortzita

nire oin markak, bestearen gordelekurainoko

harrapakin aztarna lausoak.

Egunero berritzen ninduen haren irritsak;

egunero hartzen zizkidan errentan nire birjina gerrialdeak…

Malko bat xukatzen nuen

haren ateko aldaba jo baino lehen.

Azken egun deliberatu hartan

esan nion: agur esatera etorri naiz…

Urteak eta urteak igarota, goiz batez,

bibliotekako liburuekin itzultzean,

lasterka joan nintzaion.

Bat-batekoa izan zen, bai, oso bat-batekoa,

udako eguzkiak oso urrutiko putzu bati

emandako zaplada bizkor bat bezalakoa.

Dar-dar bat haren irribarrean, kaixo;

ordura arte ohartu gabe nengoen ezen,

jada ez izaki jainko bat,

jada ez izaki ur ertzeko bisonte iluna,

agure baten izari apalera

uzkurturik zegoela, eta seme bat hain

berriki galduta, mina eta oinazea baizik

ez zeukala jada begi txiki haietan.

 

The Bison at the Water’s Edge

Who says a marriage must mean only two? / The clement climate of mine was due / Not to one man alone, but two, / Two dissimilar co-tenants / In one cramped room. / One the kind side of a blade / The other the cutting edge / Yes, the other was indeed hard. / In his small eyes were desire and death / But I took roots at his windowsill / To become a wild stubborn cactus, / Believing, believing, in the rain / What secret purpose I followed / Walking to his door / To sway together, to swing together, / Beside that mirror in the corridor. / But later, back at home on my legitimate bed / Arms that could not grasp him / Grasped no sleep either / I heard the murmuring fall of silence / Like white sand falling / And during the longer nights / I saw the moon’s halo age and rust. / But why recount a dead tale, / It is now quite off the point. / Under sand piles of silence lie buried my footprints / Narrow tracks of the prey / Leading to his lair / Each day his lust renewed me / Each day he rent my virgin loins... / I wiped a tear away / Before I rang his door bell. / On that last determined day / I said I’ve come to bid goodbye... / After years and years, one morning / Returning with my library books / I ran into him / It was sudden, yes, very sudden, / Like the swift slap of the summer’s sun / On a sequestered pool / A tremor in his smile, a hello, / I had not realised till then that being / No longer a god, / And no more the dark bison at the water’s edge, / He had shrunk to an old man’s / Meek proportions / And that having so recently lost a son, / His small eyes now held only hurt and pain.