Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Fernando Linero

An Answer

Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
My heart sails on this water
where there are no spurs or goads.
My heart threw overboard the killing tools.
Now I am worried about the friends I’ve lost,
about the bitter flavor of broken friendships. 
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
For I am not one to tell a friend
under which tree to look for shade.
For each is owner of his own orchard.
Nor do I raise my voice in praise of priests,
or to ensure loyalty to me.
I prefer to keep apart
from those who rush to go to the party.
They are the “dogs of literature”.
Perhaps I’m devoid of greed.
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me 
or in that with which I could betray. 
Now I am interested in the true friend.
The one in whose name I practice indulgence.
The one for whom I let myself be blinded, cheated and hallucinated.
Because I know everything is a nothingness
and that in this comedy you as well as I
walk with the crutches of the poem.
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
I have no hatred to squander
Now I raise my voice.
I don’t know what I’ve brought. I think it’s a bit of music.
If you listen to it help me to sing.

Una respuesta

Una respuesta

Ahora no me interesa la frase que me traiciona
ni aquella con la cual pudiese traicionar.
Mi corazón navega sobre aguas
donde no hay espuelas ni acicates.
Mi corazón echó por la borda los instrumentos de matar.
Ahora me preocupan los amigos perdidos,
el sabor amargo de la amistad truncada.
Ahora no me interesa la frase que me traiciona
ni aquella con la cual pudiese traicionar.
Que no soy el que dice al amigo
bajo qué urapán debe tomar la sombra.
Que cada uno es dueño de su huerto.
No se eleva mi voz para loa de sacerdotes,
ni para asegurar lealtades.
Prefiero mantenerme alejado
de esos que se atropellan por llegar al festín.
Ellos sólo son “perros de la literatura”.
Acaso carezco de codicia.
Ahora no me interesa la frase que me traiciona
ni aquella con la cual pudiese traicionar.
Ahora me interesa el amigo verdadero.
Ese por el cual practico la indulgencia.
Ese por el que me dejo cegar, engañar y alucinar.
Porque sé que todo es nadería
y que en esta comedia tanto tu como yo
andamos con las muletas del poema.
Ahora no me interesa la frase que me traiciona
ni aquella con la cual pudiese traicionar.
No tengo odio que gastar.
Ahora levanto la voz.
No sé lo que he traído. Creo que un poco de música.
Si me escuchas ayúdame a cantar.
Close

An Answer

Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
My heart sails on this water
where there are no spurs or goads.
My heart threw overboard the killing tools.
Now I am worried about the friends I’ve lost,
about the bitter flavor of broken friendships. 
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
For I am not one to tell a friend
under which tree to look for shade.
For each is owner of his own orchard.
Nor do I raise my voice in praise of priests,
or to ensure loyalty to me.
I prefer to keep apart
from those who rush to go to the party.
They are the “dogs of literature”.
Perhaps I’m devoid of greed.
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me 
or in that with which I could betray. 
Now I am interested in the true friend.
The one in whose name I practice indulgence.
The one for whom I let myself be blinded, cheated and hallucinated.
Because I know everything is a nothingness
and that in this comedy you as well as I
walk with the crutches of the poem.
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
I have no hatred to squander
Now I raise my voice.
I don’t know what I’ve brought. I think it’s a bit of music.
If you listen to it help me to sing.

An Answer

Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
My heart sails on this water
where there are no spurs or goads.
My heart threw overboard the killing tools.
Now I am worried about the friends I’ve lost,
about the bitter flavor of broken friendships. 
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
For I am not one to tell a friend
under which tree to look for shade.
For each is owner of his own orchard.
Nor do I raise my voice in praise of priests,
or to ensure loyalty to me.
I prefer to keep apart
from those who rush to go to the party.
They are the “dogs of literature”.
Perhaps I’m devoid of greed.
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me 
or in that with which I could betray. 
Now I am interested in the true friend.
The one in whose name I practice indulgence.
The one for whom I let myself be blinded, cheated and hallucinated.
Because I know everything is a nothingness
and that in this comedy you as well as I
walk with the crutches of the poem.
Now I am not interested in the sentence that betrays me
or in that with which I could betray.
I have no hatred to squander
Now I raise my voice.
I don’t know what I’ve brought. I think it’s a bit of music.
If you listen to it help me to sing.
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