Anteojeras rojas - Red blinkers - 365 days of poetry challenge-Day 95

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¡Saludos, Weku!
Este poema forma parte del Desafío de 365 días de poesía inspirado en la foto propuesta, muy amablemente, por @kimi a quien agradezco la recepción y el apoyo. Esta es mi entrada 95 y espero les guste.


Greetings, Weku!
This poem is part of the Challenge of 365 day of poetry inspired by the photo proposed, very kindly, by @kimi whom I thank for the reception and support. This is my entry 95 and I hope you like it.

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“Si no nos perdemos nunca, no encontraremos otros caminos”.

Littlewood

Anteojeras rojas


Ese trozo de mar, azul e inmenso, cercado por anteojeras rojas,
mudando a cada instante de horizontes,
es lo que vemos desde este muelle.
Casi mar, casi recuerdo,
según la luz que ondula sobre el agua.
Y a bordo, en cualquiera de esos barcos,
va o viene todavía la parte de mi vida más errática.

Los límites rojos tienen forma de padre autoritario,
imponen caminos con alertas que creen que salvan, pero matan.
Desde este barco se sienten más caminos que memorias
y, sin embargo, me vi una vez muy lejos de este mundo,
a muchas leguas de mi vida en un país de otra galaxia,
idéntico a sí mismo, pero nómada, con el sólido grito de sus piedras
gravitando en un ocaso casi blanco.

Esta misma tierra de sueños posibles
va conmigo a la intemperie, rodeada de mares infinitos
y el humo etéreo de sus barcos,
Esta misma tierra abatida, tiene un latido distinto
y un corte profundo que cicatrizará en ambas manos;
incapaz de arrancarnos lo que amamos,
porque los que se van regresan,
aunque tengan otros amaneceres en los ojos,
el corazón siempre espera entre uno y otro muelle
y nunca parte.


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“If we never get lost, we won't find other ways”.

Littlewood

Red blinkers


That piece of sea, blue and immense, surrounded by red blinkers,
changing every moment of horizons,
is what we see from this pier.
Almost sea, almost remember,
according to the light waving over the water.
And on board, in any of those ships,
the part of my life that wanders the most is coming or going.

The red boundaries have the form of an authoritarian father,
impose paths with alerts that they believe save, but kill.
From this ship you feel more roads than memories
and yet once I saw myself away from this world,
many leagues from my life in a country in another galaxy,
identical to him, but nomadic, with the solid cry of his stones
gravitating in an almost white sunset.

This same land of possible dreams
goes with me out in the open, surrounded by infinite seas.
and the ethereal smoke of its ships.
This same downed earth has a different heartbeat.
and a deep cut that will leave scars on both hands;
incapable of tearing out what we love,
because those who leave become,
even though they have other sunrises in their eyes,
the heart always waits between one dock and another.
and it never leaves.



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Written by Zeleira Cordero @corderozeleira.

10/02/2019

Photo by Sunyu Kim on Unsplash

Separator:
Cat
Simplemente Gracias

For your kind reading... Thanks!

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