|
| And I’d reach down inside and pull the naivety
up out of the chasms of the chambers
that pump a cold stream throughout
my broken body.
I’d shine a light on the note that I hid in
a book on the shelf in Georgia
where it believed in love and its lies
and the wonder of its disguise.
But I’m spent inside and I
see clearly and the tears
no longer blur my vision and
I won’t believe the unbelievable.
That my blood could run warm again.
Copyright Matthew Stephen Valdés 2009 | | |
| I may not be posting on xanga as much anymore, 'cause I found this site, www.editred.com, and I really like it. My screen name on there is the same if you want to try and find me. I'll come post here on occasion still, but I think I will probably frequent that site a little more. Right now, I just have reposted some poems there that I have here on xanga, but soon I will have some new stuff. Well, just so ya'll know where I went. | | |
| where
is the light
switch
where
is the
win-
dow
where
is the
warm bed
where
did my
friends go
I am a-
lone
here all
things are
cold here
is this what
my life
is all
about now
all that I want
is to find
a way
out | | |
| This entry however, is a short story written by one of my professors in Spain, which he had published some years ago. I'm including my translation.
El Muro
Al caerse, se dio un pequeño golpe en la cabeza. Por eso, al levantarse, no supo muy bien dónde estaba. Al cabo de unos minutos, comenzó a reconocer el planeta, completamente liso, incluso brillante, y el muro. Y pensó que, al otro lado del muro, debían de estar todas las cosas hermosas que no estaban a este otro lado: el mar, los árboles, el viento, la risa...
Pero aquél muro era tan alto y liso que no podía escalarlo, tan macizo que no podía romperlo. La única alternativa que led quedaba era la de seguir la senda que le marcaba el muro para poder encontrar algún hueco por el que conseguir pasar al otro lado. De esta manera, anduvo caminando días, meses y años. A su lado, el muro intacto, siempre como recién nacido, continuo perfecto. Una mañana se detuvo y, sin muchos problemas, llegó a la firme conclusión de que el muro no tenía principio ni fin, sino que rodeaba, por completo, aquél planeta liso, incluso brillante. Lógicamente, ante esto no pudo evitar echarse a llorar hundido, asustado y solo.
En un momento, en que se apoyó en el muro, sin saber cómo ni por qué cayó al otro lado, dándose un pequeño golpe en la cabeza. Por eso, al levantarse, no supo muy bien dónde estaba. Al cabo de unos minutes, comenzó a reconocer el planeta completamente liso, incluso brillante, y el muro. Y pensó que, al otro lado del muro, debían de estar todas las cosas hermosas que no estaban a este lado: el mar, los árboles, el viento, la risa...
por Juan Manuel Castillo
de "Náufrago por unanimidad"
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The Wall
When he fell, he gave himself a small bump on the head. For this reason, when he got up, he didn't really know where he was. In just a few minutes, he started to get to know the world around him, completely smooth and filled with light, and the wall. And he thought that, on the other side of the wall, there had to be all the beautiful things that could not be found on this side: the ocean, the trees, the wind, the smile...
But this wall was so high and so smooth that he could not climb it, and so solid that he could not break it. He was left with just one option, to follow the path that went along the wall and try to find some opening through which he could make his way to the other side. In this way, he walked for days, months and years. At his side, the wall continued, always as if newly born, perfect without a single break. One morning, he stopped himself and, without much difficulty, came to the firm conclusion that the wall had neither a beginning or an end, but instead it went completely around the smooth and brilliant planet. Obviously, with this in mind, he could not keep himself from beginning to cry, sullen, scared, and alone.
And in this moment, he leaned against the wall, and without knowing how or why, he fell through to the other side, giving himself a small bump on the head. For this reason, when he got up, he didn't really know where he was. In just a few minutes, he started to get to know the world around him, completely smooth and filled with light, and the wall. And he thought that, on the other side of the wall, there had to be all the beautiful things that could not be found on this side: the ocean, the trees, the wind, the smile...
Translation by Matthew Stephen Valdés Copyright © 2007 | | |
| The following is the first (and only) short story I have ever written in Spanish. I wrote it for a writing class I took in Salamanca, Spain this summer. Please excuse any grammar errors in the Spanish. Following the Spanish version is an English translation that I wrote today. It's no masterpiece, but it has sentimental value to me. It made me want to write more short stories, and I haven't so far. But maybe I will post one in the near future.
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Había una vez, un chico de once años que vivía en una pequeña ciudad en Egipto cerca del Nilo. Sus padres eran pobres y no tenían mucho dinero. No obstante, su familia estaba muy contenta con lo poco que tenía.
Un día, cuando sus padres estaban trabajando en el campo de su jefe, el chico salió en busca de algo divertido. Había caminado una media hora fuera de su casa cuando vio a una caravana de gitanos, parados cerca de la calle.
Los hombres tocaban instrumentos mientras las mujeres bailaban en un circulo. Todos los gitanos cantaron una canción en una lengua que el chico no sabía. El chico se acercó a la caravana, tratando de quedar escondido.
La música rítmica, las voces dulces y el baile apasionado de los gitanos le encantaron al chico. Se puso cómodo y disfrutó hasta que se quedó dormido.
Había estado durmiendo más que tres horas cuando se despertó al ver a una chica gitana sentada a su lado. La chica tenía el pelo negro, la piel oscura y los ojos cafés. El chico no había visto a una chica tan hermosa en toda su vida y en un momento se enamoró de ella. Cuando la gitana se dio cuenta de que el chico se había despierto, se levantó y se fue, nunca haber visto por el chico otra vez.
El chico creció y conoció a muchas otras mujeres, pero no había una la igual de la gitana. La chica había pegado su imagen en la mente del chico por siempre. El chico disfrutó de grandes placeres y conoció a muchas mujeres bonitas, aunque no pudiera encontrarse contento ni un día de su vida. Todo gracias a la belleza mágica de una joven gitana.
-----------------
Once upon a time, an eleven year old boy was living in a small city in Egypt near the Nile. His parents were poor and had very little money. Nonetheless, his family was very content with the little that they had.
One day, when his parents were working in the countryside, the boy went out in search of something interesting to do. He had walked half an hour away from his house when he saw a caravan of gypsies gathered near the main road.
The men were playing instruments while the women danced in a circle. All the gypsies were singing a song in a language that the boy did not know. The boy brought himself closer to the caravan, trying to keep himself hidden.
The rhythmic music, the sweet voices, and the passionate dancing of the gypsies enchanted the boy. He made himself comfortable and enjoyed everything until he fell asleep.
He had been sleeping a little more than three hours when he awoke to see a young gypsie girl seated right beside him. She had black hair, dark skin, and brown eyes. The boy had never seen a girl so beautiful in all his life and in just one moment he fell in love with the girl. When the gypsy realized that the boy was awake, she got up and ran away, never to be seen again by the boy.
The boy grew up and met many other women, but none could compare with the gypsy girl. She had fastened her image in the mind of the boy forever. The boy enjoyed great pleasures in life and got to know many beautiful women, but he could never find himself content again for one day of his life. All thanks to the magical beauty of a young gypsy woman.
Copyright © 2007 Matthew Stephen Valdés | | |
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