Antzinako hitza da, orain histen ari zaigu.

Biziki nahi nuen.

Biziki desio nuen.

Biziki maite nuen.

 

Banoa aurrera espaloian zehar

Arretaz, triskatutako belaunengatik

Bost axola zaizkit

zuri hala iruditu arren

beste kontuak izan badira, handiagoak–

adi, ulertuko duzu—

 

kafe erdia eskuan

paperezko edalontzian—

biziki damutzen naiz—

plastikozko taparekin—

hitzek antzina zuten esanahia oroitu nahian.

 

Biziki.

Nola erabiltzen zen?

Biziki maiteok.

Biziki maiteok, elkarrekin gaude.         

Biziki maiteok, elkarrekin gaude hemen.            

Orain dela gutxi topatu dudan

Ahaztutako argazki album honetan

 

Orain histen ari dira,

sepiak, zuri beltzak, koloretako argazkiak,

Denok askoz gazteago.

Polaroidak.

Zer da polaroid bat? Jaio berriak galdetzen du.

Orain dela hamarkada bat jaio berri.

 

Nola azaldu?

Argazkia atera eta goiko aldean azaltzen zen.

Zeren gainean?

Harridura-keinu hori askotan ikusten dut.

Hain da zaila deskribatzen

egiteko moduen ñabardurarik ttipienak—

biziki elkarrekin izatearen une guzti horiek—

nola bizi ginen.

Zaborra jasotzen genuen

Egunkarian lokarri batekin loturik.

Zer da egunkari bat?

Ulertzen duzu zer diodan.

 

 

Hala ere hor lokarria, oraindik badugu lokarria

Gauzak elkartzen ditu.

Perla sorta bat.

Horixe esango lukete.

Nola jarraitu egunen haria?

Bakoitza distiratsu, bakoitza isolatua, bakoitza gero joana

Horietariko batzuk paperean gorde ditut kajoi batean

Egun horiek, orain histen ari dira.

Aleak zenbatzeko erabil daitezke.

Arrosarioetan bezala.

Baina ez dut zama gustuko.

 

Kale honetan zehar lore asko dago,

Orain histen ari dira abuztua delako

eta hautsez estaliak badoaz udazkenerantz.

Aurki chrysanthemumak loratuko dira,

Hildakoen loreak, Frantzian.

Ez pentsatu hori morbidoa denik.

Errealitatea besterik ez da.

 

Loreen ñabardurarik ttipienak deskribatzea hain da zaila

Hau estamina da, minarekin zerikusirik ez.

Hau pistiloa da, armekin zerikusirik ez.

Ñabardurarik ttipienek huts eragiten diete itzultzaileei

baita ni neuri ere, deskribatu nahian.

Ulertu zer esan nahi dudan.

Desbidera zaitezke. Gal zaitezke.

Hitzek hori egin dezakete.

 

Biziki maiteok, hemen elkartu zarete

Kajoi itxi honetan,

Histen ari zarete orain, faltan botatzen zaituztet.

Falta direnak faltan botatzen ditut, jada joan direnak.

Oraindik hemen daudenak ere faltan botatzen ditut.

Zuek guztiok biziki faltan botatzen zaituztet.

Atsekabean biziki zuen lagun.

 

Atsekabea: jada sarri entzuten ez dugun

Beste hitz bat.

Biziki atsekabetzen naiz.

 

 

Dearly

 

It´s an old word, fading now. / Dearly did I wish. / Dearly did I long for. / I loved him dearly. // I make my way along the sidewalk / Mindfully, because of my wrecked knees / About which I give less of a shit / than you may imagine / since there are other things, more important- / wait for it, you´ll see // bearing half a coffee / in a paper cup with- / dearly do I regret it- / a plastic lid / trying to remember wat words once meant. // Dearly. / How was it used? / Dearly beloved. / Dearly beloved, we are gathered. / Dearly beloved, we are gathered here / In this forgotten photo album / I came across recently. // Fading now, / the sepias, the black and whites, the colour prints, / everyone so much younger. / The Polaroids. / What is a Polaroid? Asks the newborn. / Newborn a decade ago. // How to explain? / You took the picture and then it came out the top. / The top of what? / It´s that baffled look I see a lot. / So hard to describe   / the smallest details of how- / all these dearly gathered together- / of how we used to live. / We wrapped up garbage / In newspaper tied with string. / What is newspaper? / You see what I mean. // String though, we still have string.                / It links things together. / A string of pearls. / That´s what they would say. / How to keep track of the days?Each one shining, each one alone, each one then gone. / I´ve kept some of them in a drawer on paper. / Those days, fading now. / Beads can be used for counting. / As in rosaries. / But I don´t like stones around my neck. // Along this street there are many flowers, / Fading now because it is August / and dusty, and heading into fall. / Soon the chrysanthemums will bloom, / Flowers of the dead, in France. / Don´t think this is morbid. / It´s just reality. // So hard to describe the smallest details of flowers. / This is a stamen, nothing to do with men. / This is a pistil, nothing to do with guns. / It´s the smallest details that foil translators / and myself too, trying to describe. / See what I mean. / You can wander away. You can get lost. / Words can do that. // Dearly beloved, gathered here together / In this closed drawer, / Fading now, I miss you. / I miss the missing, those who left earlier. / I miss even those who are still here. / I miss you all dearly. / Dearly do I sorrow for you. // Sorrow: that´s another word / You don´t hear much any more. / I sorrow dearly.