Concierto a dos voces

I can’t believe you did it again.

Did what?

You cried again.

I felt sad.

But surely, you should have learnt the lesson by now.

What lesson is that?

I don’t know, for one, you shouldn’t have expected him to love you. People can’t see who you are. Most of them don’t care. You spend too long living inside yourself, how can you tell what it is like on the outside? How do people see you?

Is that all?

Yes, to begin with.

I am tired of your cruelty. It’s worn out now, you know. Do you not fancy a bit of love?

Remember what it was like when we opened up? How our heart was broken?

But we learnt ho to love, that we are capable of loving.

What for? Loving has always been useless for us. I shouldn’t have listened to you.

But you did. Why did you?

Because I needed to be loved too.

Why did you let him walk away? We love him.

He left us. He went away. He thanked us and left. You gave him everything.

While you only closed your eyes.

I didn’t. I shut my mouth. You knew where it was heading. You knew that what was left from out heart would be broken.

You closed your eyes.

I did not. I did not let you enjoy it.

Why? It was love.

It was wrong. It was a lie. He felt nothing for us.

But he did. I saw it in his eyes.

Where is he now? He never tried to come back.

We hurt him.

He hurt us more.

We said goodbye to him and we still love him.

Oh please, understand thiss, once and for all: he doesn’t love us. He said it himself: he’s greedy and selfish. He’s weak. And his weakness was not leaving us.

He was never going to do it.

I don’t know hot to protect us any longer. I don’t know how to mend this heart. I am afraid. I don’t know if I should listen to you again. You let this happen to us. You let him steal everything we had.

I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I am so sorry.

Please, don’t cry anymore. Don’t hurt anymore. Please don’t hurt anymore. You always knew this would pass.  Trust me.

I know. “That went by, so can this”

Ðæs ofereode ðisses swa mæg

“He wishes for the cloths of heaven”

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats, 1899

Te di mis sueños para que caminaras sobre ellos.

Te habría dado la seda marina del cielo estrellado.

Mentiste.

Las estrellas como trozos de vidrio me rasgaron la piel.

Me rasgaron el alma.

Ahora solo quedan tiras de alegría, enredadas con el mar revuelto,

con la espuma turbia del mar enfurecido por la tormenta.

Te di mis sueños para que caminaras sobre ellos.

Me devolviste sueños pisoteados.

Híbridos de pesadilla, burdamente cosidos con lágrimas,

desgarrados por las uñas del dolor.

¿Querías acaso la tela del universo?

¿Los diamantes solares engarzados en mi piel?

Los habrías arrancado como me arrancaste la alegría,

como me arrancaste el corazón y la fe.

¿Querías la luz de la mañana,

la luz ambarina de la aurora,

la sombra de la noche y la penumbra de mi habitación?

¿Querías el oro del sol chorreando plata sobre el río?

¿Para qué, si eres ciego?

English

Don’t ask:

my adopted language.

The one I feel comfortable with:

my life.

The paint with which I colour my feelings:

my landscape.

A long lasting love.

A colouring box, a tool box,

my fountain pen, my singing voice.

Don’t ask me why

I fell in love with the sounds,

I fell in love with its depth:

the illogical logics.

There is so much more than I could ever say.

Love is sweeter in English.

Life is swifter in English.

Don’t ask what life would be without it.

It is my weapon of choice.

It moves smoothly in my lips.

My tongue pushes it out in a river of wonder.

‘Tis a pleasure to swim in its waters

and feel them flow in a rush

round my body,

my ears, my head, my throat, my voice.

Don’t ask me why

if I could choose, all over again,

again a hundred and a thousand times

it would still be my own.