Muy emocionado, transcribo y agradezco muchísimo a Kragen Javier Sitaker, la bellísima traducción, que con ayuda de Liz Henry, realizó de mi poema Cosmologya. Cliqueando en el título de arriba pueden ver en página aparte a dos columnas la versión original y la traducción. Me parece mejor la traducción que el poema original, la verdad. Nunca había sido traducido a ningún idioma, y es una extrañísima sensación, me encanta la música inglesa que encontraron. Gracias, gracias, gracias infinitas.
In the beginning
there was a tree
and the tree was
enormous
and made of night
and the fruits
of the tree were
eyes
and they opened
and light was born
the north and the south
blue
and it snowed
and the snow was
the material
of the world
because everything
is snow
everything
is made of snow
And the snow was
angry
because it did not know how to think
so the tree
allowed it to think,
taught it to think
and the snow
thought
and was angry,
much angrier than before
because
it did not like
thinking
so the tree
erased, out of pity, its memory,
and the snow
was calmed
and the tree opened its mouth
and named
the ten thousand things,
the furniture of the world,
and so those things came to be
(well, things without names
don’t exist, they say)
And the things were
made of snow,
and the tree molded
the snow
with its forked tongue
and gave it form,
and what really
was in the heart
of the things
was the cold
of the night,
the cold of the snow,
yes,
the cold is the soul
of things
made of snow;
and the last thing molded
by the tongue
of the tree
was a couple of
humans,
one female, one male,
two humans,
and as soon as they opened
their eyes
they hated
the tree,
and the woman said to her man:
“Hey, you, make an axe
and let’s cut down
the tree,”
and the man obeyed.
But the tree was so enormous
and so strong
that the man could not
chop it down.
And the tree laughed at the man,
it laughed
at both humans,
and both humans
cried
inconsolably, because
they were very weak.
And the enormous tongue
of the tree
was a river,
and the river was life,
the river is
the sum of the days
and the nights that pass,
that never stop,
the river never dries up,
never pauses in its running,
and it has a
lovely music
that creates the dreams
dreamed by
things of snow.
And the crown of the tree was
the sky;
and the leaves
the air;
and the roots
the soil
the tree was
the countryside
and could no longer be seen
with clarity,
the tree was
unrecognizable
and the man said:
“this tree is
our mother,
let's worship this tree”,
and the woman
agreed,
and they worshipped it
