Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Federico Díaz-Granados

YOU MUST LOVE SOMEBODY

You must love something or somebody:
the pile of ruins that surrounds you
the sirens that announce war
the relatives who tell you stories of rancour
and then charge you with the expulsion of paradise.

Love women, all of them,
the unknown one
the one with the perfect face
the deformed and hunchbacked
the ones that go away with their suitcases intact
the ones who are always another’s.

Surely love will some day have the exact recipe
and we shall know why the fog stayed in the open
of lost kisses and embraces never made
and why laughter sometimes resembles a lent garment
too big for us, that never fits us,
that smells of alien skin in its pockets.

One must love with its multiple wounds
and its stock of haemorrhages and slow recoveries,
one must not be afraid of its burnt papers
nor of its amulets and lucky charms for each appointment
nor the sobs that left the bedroom empty on the last day. 

You must love someone every instant of your life
even if tied to a piece of star.
Don’t delay the dawn’s arrival to these lands.

A hard trade and rare matter love is
but today it takes many notes for the joy
the morning you see now before your eyes
was stopped in the same orb centuries ago
waiting
with the same haste of the words
at the time of reaching one’s body.

A ALGUIEN DEBES AMAR

A ALGUIEN DEBES AMAR

A alguien debes amar:
Al montón de ruinas que te rodean
a las sirenas que anuncian la guerra
a las parentelas que te narran historias del rencor
y luego te cobran la expulsión del paraíso.

Ama a las mujeres, a todas,
a la desconocida
a la del rostro perfecto
a la contrahecha y jorobada
a las que se alejan con sus maletas intactas
a las siempre ajenas

Seguro el amor un día tendrá su exacta receta
y sabremos por qué la bruma se quedó a la intemperie
de los besos perdidos y los abrazos nunca dados
y por qué la risa parece algunas veces un saco prestado
que nos queda grande y nunca nos encaja
que huele a pieles extranjeras en sus bolsillos.

Se debe amar con sus múltiples heridas
y su inventario de hemorragias y lentas convalecencias
no se debe temer a sus papeles quemados
ni a sus amuletos y talismanes de cada cita
ni a los sollozos que dejaron vacía la alcoba el último día.

A alguien debes amar cada instante de la vida
y regresa amarrado a un pedazo de estrella.
No demores la llegada del alba a estas tierras.

Es un duro oficio y raro asunto este del amor
pero toma hoy muchos apuntes para el gozo
que la mañana que hoy ves frente a tus ojos
hace siglos está detenida en la misma cuenca
esperando
con el mismo afán de las palabras
a la hora de llegar al cuerpo.
Close

YOU MUST LOVE SOMEBODY

You must love something or somebody:
the pile of ruins that surrounds you
the sirens that announce war
the relatives who tell you stories of rancour
and then charge you with the expulsion of paradise.

Love women, all of them,
the unknown one
the one with the perfect face
the deformed and hunchbacked
the ones that go away with their suitcases intact
the ones who are always another’s.

Surely love will some day have the exact recipe
and we shall know why the fog stayed in the open
of lost kisses and embraces never made
and why laughter sometimes resembles a lent garment
too big for us, that never fits us,
that smells of alien skin in its pockets.

One must love with its multiple wounds
and its stock of haemorrhages and slow recoveries,
one must not be afraid of its burnt papers
nor of its amulets and lucky charms for each appointment
nor the sobs that left the bedroom empty on the last day. 

You must love someone every instant of your life
even if tied to a piece of star.
Don’t delay the dawn’s arrival to these lands.

A hard trade and rare matter love is
but today it takes many notes for the joy
the morning you see now before your eyes
was stopped in the same orb centuries ago
waiting
with the same haste of the words
at the time of reaching one’s body.

YOU MUST LOVE SOMEBODY

You must love something or somebody:
the pile of ruins that surrounds you
the sirens that announce war
the relatives who tell you stories of rancour
and then charge you with the expulsion of paradise.

Love women, all of them,
the unknown one
the one with the perfect face
the deformed and hunchbacked
the ones that go away with their suitcases intact
the ones who are always another’s.

Surely love will some day have the exact recipe
and we shall know why the fog stayed in the open
of lost kisses and embraces never made
and why laughter sometimes resembles a lent garment
too big for us, that never fits us,
that smells of alien skin in its pockets.

One must love with its multiple wounds
and its stock of haemorrhages and slow recoveries,
one must not be afraid of its burnt papers
nor of its amulets and lucky charms for each appointment
nor the sobs that left the bedroom empty on the last day. 

You must love someone every instant of your life
even if tied to a piece of star.
Don’t delay the dawn’s arrival to these lands.

A hard trade and rare matter love is
but today it takes many notes for the joy
the morning you see now before your eyes
was stopped in the same orb centuries ago
waiting
with the same haste of the words
at the time of reaching one’s body.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère