Red de Literatura y Cine
(TRADUCCIÓN AL INGLÉS DEL POEMA "A MI ABUELA", DEL LIBRO MI ÚLTIMO INVIERNO)
I'll bury you a morning.
I will do it,
Just so I can hear you,
Listening to you again,
I want to keep talking to you.
To express in verse what you never heard,
And find out, once again,
How I'm going to make my way right,
Knowing you'll find me there,
Well, it'll be our meeting point,
Then we won't have to look for each other anymore.
I'll listen to you,
Even under those white chrysanthemums.
Gallantry I'll draw about your epitaph,
So that the colors accompany your laughter.
Yeah, your laugh, because you'll finally laugh,
You will, discovering a few "everlasting"
That some neighbor of yours received as a sign of irony.
You'll talk to me later,
Because I'll want to keep hearing
Far from oblivion,
Those stories that were silent in your life,
Those regrets you only hid before,
But they don't matter anymore,
Because at our meeting point,
All we'll have to do is talk.
And I'll listen to you,
While you're visiting me,
Knowing that you can rest in peace now.