povc3308


INURRIA - II	THE ANT - II
Miren Agur Meabe	trans. Brian Cole (from Basque, via Spanish)
Nire bertuteak, noizbehinka haren berri izatearen truke: dei bat, irudi lauso bat ispiluan, edozer telekinesiaz mugitzen. Larunbatero joaten naiz kanposantura. Egun on - esaten diot -, neu naiz, inurria. Loreak eta hitzak, kristal-papurrak, hauts-eskukadak ekarri dizkizut. Lixaz karrakatzen dut euriak erdituriko liken horizta. Etzan, eta marmolezko izenak musukatzen. Hodeiek gorantz urrupatzen naute; harriek beherantz xurgatzen. Odolezko hariak daude belarretan. Hilobiaren alde banatan, llargia eta Eguzkia neuri begira.	My powers of knowing something from time to time: a phone call, a blurred image in a mirror, something moving by telekinesis. Every Sabbath I go up to the cemetery. Good day - I say to him - it's me, the ant. I have brought you flowers and words, bits of glass, handfuls of dust. I rasp with sandpaper lichens the rain gave birth to. I stretch out and caress names in marble. The clouds absorb me, the stones suck me in. I see threads of blood on the grass. On each side of the grave, the Sun and the Moon look at me.