La felicidad
Me acerco a la ventana con café
y el típico runrún que quien madruga
hace pasar por pensamiento.
Cuando veo al muchacho y a su amigo
enfilar la carretera
para entregar el diario.
Llevan gorras y jerseys,
y uno porta una bolsa sobre el hombro.
Son tan felices
que no dicen nada, estos muchachos.
Si pudieran, creo
que se tomarían del brazo.
Es temprano, de mañana,
y hacen esto juntos.
Lentamente se aproximan.
En el cielo comienza a abrirse luz,
aunque pende aún pálida la luna sobre el agua.
Tanta belleza que por un instante
la muerte y la ambición, el amor incluso,
no tienen cabida aquí.
La felicidad. Sin previo aviso
aparece. Y, de hecho, sobrepasa
cualquier alusión de quien madruga.
Enlaces: https://epo2daepoca.blogspot.com/search/label/Raymond%20Carver
De: elcoloquiodelosperros.net
Imagen: www.atlascultural.com
Traducción de Natalia Carbajosa (http://clubdepoesia.com/nataliacarbajosa/)
Natalia Carbajosa nació en el Puerto de Santa María, Cádiz, España en 1971. Doctora de Filología Inglesa por la Universidad de Salamanca, desempeñó varios cargos como Profesora de Literatura inglesa.
Ha publicado poesía :
Los puentes sumergidos (Cartagena, Áglaya, 2000).
Pronóstico (Madrid, Torremozas, 2005).
Los reinos y las horas/Himeneo y sus nombres (Murcia, Editora Regional, 2006).
Prosopoemas, plaquette con siete poemas e ilustraciones de Ermes Meloni (Milán, Signum Edizioni d’arte, 2007).
Desde una estrella enana/Biografía elemental (Madrid, Editorial Poesía Eres Tú, 2009).
Tu suerte está en Ispahán., Editorial Hipálage, 2012
Y narrativa:
Patologías (Cartagena, Áglaya, 2005).
“Donde se cuenta la conversación que entablaron Don Quijote y la pastora Marcela tras dar sepultura al desdichado Grisóstomo, y que no aparece en la obra de Miguel de Cervantes por considerarse apócrifa”. José Ángel Barrueco (ed.), Palabras para Cervantes. Salamanca: Celya, 2005, págs. 131-134.
“Recapitulación, o cuando las encinas se convirtieron en hombres”. I Premio Nacional de relato corto sobre un texto científico. Universidad de Murcia, 2008, págs. 23-30.
Traducciones
Traducción directa (inglés-español)
H.D. (Hilda Doolittle), Trilogía (Trilogy), Barcelona, Lumen, 2008. Edición bilingüe.
Inédito (junto con Adolfo Gómez Tomé): Kathleen Raine, Memorias.
Traducciones de poemas sueltos aparecidos en El coloquio de los perros de Raymond Carver, Sujata Bhatt, Chinua Achebe, Ben Okri, Scott Hightower, Teresa Svoboda (entre otros).
Traducción inversa (español-inglés)
Name and Commit the Savannah-Sunset and the Restless Sea. Munayem Mayening ed. Insomnium Books, 2009.
Traducciones de poemas de Tomás Sánchez Santiago, Mila Ramos y Gracia Iglesias y de la propia autora en: Munayem Mayenin (ed.), London Poetry Pearl (Londres, 2009).
Traducciones de poemas de Mila Ramos y Gracia Iglesias en Metamorphoses, universidad de Maryland, 2009 (nº 17:2).
Ensayo
Shakespeare y el lenguaje de la comedia: teoría, crítica y análisis. Madrid, Verbum, 2009.
Colaboró con artículos críticos, reseñas, entrevistas, relatos y poemas en revistas españolas como El coloquio de los perros, Los cuadernos del matemático, Empireuma y Ágora, entre otras, y en revistas extranjeras como Baquiana, The Poet’s Letter Magazine y Metamorphoses.
PREMIOS:
VIII Certamen Marcha Arte Joven 2000 (Cartagena): primer premio de poesía y mención honorífica de relato.Premio al libro murciano del año en la categoría de relatos por Patologías (Murcia, 2006).
Accésit en el primer certamen de relato corto sobre un texto científico por “Recapitulación, o cuando las encinas se convirtieron en hombres” (Universidad de Murcia, 2008).
II Accésit en el tercer certamen internacional de relato breve sobre vida universitaria de la Universidad de Córdoba por “Dos amigas” (2010).
Finalista en el 2º concurso de la AEP (Asociación de Editores de Poesía), Febrero de 2010, por Desde una estrella enana.
El poeta ocasional agradece especialmente sus colaboraciones
Happiness
Happiness
So early it’s almost dark out.
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it
So early it’s almost dark out.
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it
So early it’s almost dark out.
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it
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