EDVINS RAUPS [1.280] Poeta de Letonia

Edvins Raups 

Nació en Sigulda, Letonia, en diciembre de 1962. Ha publicado los libros de poesía: 33 dzejoli (1997); Dzivodamies (1995); y Veja nav (1991). Tradujo al letón el libro Rayuela de Julio Cortázar (2001). Ha sido Editor de cultura de los periódicos Neatkariga Rita avize (1994-1996) y Neatkariga Rita avize (2001). Realizó estudios de inglés en la Universidad Estatal de Letonia y de Lengua Española en Casa de Profesores, Riga.

Poemas Inéditos en español

Una aurora alambrada

Ella poseía veintiséis veranos, un esposo
y una pandereta de plata Ella me pide
que escriba esto de la forma más simple:
su sometimiento a la tierra y al dar a luz
a las catacumbas donde el amor flota libremente
su deseo de ver en los flancos del corazón
siquiera una sombra con un rostro
humano de eternidad mas nadie ha
estado allí Su transformación nocturna en
ánfora griega luego quebrada y la ascensión de su lamento
hacia el Cielo como pequeños aretes dados por Dios
Ella desea que salude a aquella bestia
que vino del mar de las siete cabezas:
rojos labios negros ojos y un sello
en lugar del corazón Y la perdida de la memoria
y una mano de almirez de esencia de pino para detener
el llanto interior: ¡protege bajo tus alas
desvanécete en gozo! En verdad ella supone
que no hay esperanza para amar De este modo
ella permanece allí en algún lugar
así de simple.

*

Bestias haciendo el amor
en el desierto. La arena
incendia sus ojos. Su
goteo
petrifica
el pasado perdona
todo futuro
también este momento
Qué otra cosa
radiante radiante
somos los embriones malogrados
de la Soledad
embriones mutilados
montículos mortuorios
capaces de imitar la nada
Tierra
Desierto
Coito

*

Algunos signos de vida
por todas partes Sin la asistencia
del todopoderoso Un abalorio
solitario como una gacela árabe
traiciona el corazón Centelleo blanco
caderas diseminadas sobre el paisaje
alguien desolla nuestra frente
contra la herida. Vamos prendamos fuego
a la sangre de los muertos. Soy vida
Tengo todos esos círculos alrededor de mis ojos y
tú

*

permaneciendo vivo
me siento ahora ante una mesa
de rosas esparcida
observando el inmenso pezón
y sonriendo semióticamente
en el techo
escúchala
escondiéndose fríamente tras tu espina
dorsal mi sombra acecha

Traducción del letón al inglés por Ieva Leshinska
y del inglés al español por Raúl Jaime






ja gals ir vidus es esmu šeit (Latvian)

ja gals ir vidus es esmu šeit Uzvāri
man kaut ko pārejošu Nekas
jau vēl nav zaudēts stalaktīta gari
un dvēseles Efemēras miesas Viss
raujas uz iekšu kā acs uz tumsu Lai top To
viņa grib mana skropsta Pat
vislielākie augstumi iziet no sliedēm
un sajauc tukši tapušās galvās
mieru ar mieru laiku ar laiku naidu
ar naidu Viss izlīdzinās līdz mēram
kas bija pirms Grimma Grāla un
sniegbaltītes Un vai tas ko tagad
tu dzirdi ir atpakaļnākošs vaids
vai griba atdalīt vēlreiz bailes no
Kolosa prieka Iziet uz ielas kā džunglim
un atkārtot pirmo rindiņu Jā
kā vienmēr no augšas uz leju ehoi!
uzvāri tagadiņ tēju es tevi vairs
nebēršu klāt Un pasaule atkal staigās

pa pāriem

Edvīns Raups // Poems/ Translated by Ieva Lešinska//Latvian Literature 3.

1.

everything has some meaning

my joy my sorrow

my promise

a cross on the lawn of future

an airplane in the sky

a monk in his teens

a bare foot that appears in the attic window

our time that never dies

moons pigeons

a madman shoots dead her third love

cows on the road

an old woman on the bus

the horizon

straight without zigzag

lightning

2.

a valley

is our century

a woman stands in dark glasses on a precipice

a cat in a church

the cat walks out onto the roof

the cat is shot dead

this time to the tune of bagpipes

a full moon appears

a boy and a girl escape the bullets

God catches them

a smile blood a phone call

handwriting on old parchment

handwriting and the stars

angels joining hands a valley

an adult woman

also a kiss

while I watch the patience of life

3.

a green dictionary lemons

the queen comes out on the balcony

who will I be after I'm done writing?

to say deep into the earth

a seashore monastery

a boy opens a Bible without any text

a green dictionary lemons

you have a red bottom she says

she too

Moncayo

walks conversations queen

queen conversations walks

abbreviated feelings

turtles

no, there is no point in dying

* 

then touch me here

right here Where

nothing can be undone

My mountains are higher my

abysses are deeper Metaphysically

limited I plow a field

coveted by

my heart I plow it

once more

everyone's got his mythology darling

No one doesn't return home

just like that My essence - my

limit how far I could

see if there was no heaven

blocking the view

Time ticking and time mute

heather rusty and heather dark brown

The expanse of addressing

Your dishevelled hair shake the diffraction grating

of the most important answer

while on the fingertips

of my eyes your infinity

ends

What are you going to do I ask once more

with this sky where there is

not a single minute

not a spare hour

or losing hands

What is this broad rim

what are these longings and horizons

that so carelessly await reality

on the edge

of our bed

Then touch me here

right here Where

nothing can be undone

You always stand there

an outside

as my pores open Always

as the heartbeat remembers the splinters of chaos

back there Where you were not being

pain without flesh and longing to be seen

closer But flames walked freely through you

Nothing was your dress and blood and you called out loud

Come back Lord stand before me so

that I feel eye for eye fang for fang so

that the shadow yet again beats safely

against the ground

oh downpour

oh rain firstborn

under my skin

Then touch me here again

right here Where

nothing can be undone

* 

Just the two of us

tainted by antinational baroque

saving our resolve

for something supernaturally simple

are pouring out our feelings

I

a man from the sidelines

like to sneak in between us Without

a sound getting drenched with existence

along with our ancestors after

the battle with the sun

The two of us

whose souls can't keep together

abandoned like Pope's bulls While

the cicadas are chirping of the milk

suckling piglets in faraway Jerusalem

and the crowds of daisies

right here

in the isolation cell of bishop Meinhardt's mind

across from the Daugava boulevard

I

do not wish to pause

having fallen with your fief

like a blossoming cluster of sky

like a Slavic Aestus

at the top of the column of heart

Let

each grain of sand

on my bones become a plaster

of pain I am the empire

You are the fall

we belong together

* 

a boat on a magazine cover

water flows somewhere to the side

I invent the heart of a child

our names without surnames

a boat on a magazine cover

a little girl is dancing out

Shakespeare's sonnets

her ball flew off into the sky

and she is holding a pair of tiny scissors

Your Majesty Your Majesty kiss me

on my wing

* 

if I had fingers and a nose

if I had all that nonsense

nails lungs and a navel

even then I would be nothing more

or no more yours

than sweat and blood my love

so why do you look from the other side

as if you were dead As if I were everything

* 

if the end is the middle I am here Cook up

something transitory for me please Nothing

has been lost the ghosts and souls

of stalactites Ephemeral flesh Everything

tends toward the inside like an eye toward the dark Let it be That's

what it wants my eyelash Even

the greatest of heights run off track

and confuse in hollow-born heads

peace with peace time with time hate

with hate Everything balances out to the measure

that was before Grimm Graal and

Snow White And is what you now

hear a returning moan

or the will to separate fear yet again from

the joy of Colossus To walk out into the street like a jungle

and repeat the first line Yes

from top to bottom as usual ahoi!

Make now some tea for me please I will stop

pouring you in for flavor And the world will once again

walk in pairs

* 

To imagine everything

to imagine that everything is for real

My deep veins

The embrace of underground waters

dogs and hydras

tell me

about the shoulders of Atlas

under the round rib of death About what

the souls of the dead are composing

About the non-existence out there

and inside one's heart

while deep under the horizon

in a cloud

a murmur

a thrush

* 

having forgotten her original looks

she lay in a comfortable

place

wrapped in lace

her elbow hollows perfect

every woman is a syllable she says

and continues pasting together her

little golem loves

loves me not

the magnet of immortality

pulls shut my eyes

the visible light punishes everyone

by turning into a Phoenix

to fly! to fly!

she repeats She who is

the down from a wing whom the medieval castle

has bestowed with its gothic window She

for whom ashes are her bed of feathers

while the present ferments and grows insufferable

That's all... if only for a minute my heart beats as if eternal!

but you laugh You

stand right in front

Lord and that's why she does not see me

.