Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Carmen García

No one will give a name to what we were

No one will give a name to what we were. Just sometimes we’ll see shadows pass, of nothing and nobody. But we will see them cross hallways, reflecting on walls as though asking for a little light so that they can vanish. The shadow doesn’t want to be a shadow. It wants to be lit up so that, at some point, it can dissolve. Then no one will remember who we were. Moments will unregister themselves from memory. Places will acquire new significance. Words will obtain new meaning. When the shadows disappear, it will seem as though none of this ever happened. It will be like watching an old movie. But the shadow is a persistent presence and tends to appear in a dusky yellow. Among the fallen leaves. When nobody speaks and the light fades in each of us.

Nadie le dará un nombre a lo que fuimos

Nadie le dará un nombre a lo que fuimos

Nadie le dará un nombre a lo que fuimos. Sólo a veces veremos pasar sombras que a nada ni nadie corresponden. Pero las veremos atravesar pasillos, reflejarse en los muros como pidiendo un poco de luz para poder desaparecer. La sombra no quiere ser sombra. Quiere ser iluminada y así, en algún momento, disolverse. Entonces nadie recordará quienes fuimos. Los momentos se irán desinscribiendo de la memoria. Los lugares se irán resignificando. Las palabras tendrán otro sentido. Cuando las sombras desaparezcan parecerá como si nada de esto hubiese sucedido. Habrá sido como ver una vieja película. Pero la sombra es una presencia perseverante y suele aparecer con un amarillo crepúsculo. Entremedio de las hojarascas. Cuando nadie habla y la luz se va apagando dentro de nosotros.
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No one will give a name to what we were

No one will give a name to what we were. Just sometimes we’ll see shadows pass, of nothing and nobody. But we will see them cross hallways, reflecting on walls as though asking for a little light so that they can vanish. The shadow doesn’t want to be a shadow. It wants to be lit up so that, at some point, it can dissolve. Then no one will remember who we were. Moments will unregister themselves from memory. Places will acquire new significance. Words will obtain new meaning. When the shadows disappear, it will seem as though none of this ever happened. It will be like watching an old movie. But the shadow is a persistent presence and tends to appear in a dusky yellow. Among the fallen leaves. When nobody speaks and the light fades in each of us.

No one will give a name to what we were

No one will give a name to what we were. Just sometimes we’ll see shadows pass, of nothing and nobody. But we will see them cross hallways, reflecting on walls as though asking for a little light so that they can vanish. The shadow doesn’t want to be a shadow. It wants to be lit up so that, at some point, it can dissolve. Then no one will remember who we were. Moments will unregister themselves from memory. Places will acquire new significance. Words will obtain new meaning. When the shadows disappear, it will seem as though none of this ever happened. It will be like watching an old movie. But the shadow is a persistent presence and tends to appear in a dusky yellow. Among the fallen leaves. When nobody speaks and the light fades in each of us.
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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
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