| VOLVER A CASA El viaje ha sido largo y peligroso.
Queda un puñado de montañas
de ciudades y ríos,
el sonido de unos cuerpos,
ciertas noches
configurando con las manos las galaxias,
miles de palabras y unos rostros.
También unas cuantas tardes mirando el mar.
Volver a casa y en la valija apenas
unos libros, varios poemas inconclusos,
y un itinerario de trenes y ficciones.
Volver a casa al poblado de techos rojizos
donde ya no estan los amigos ni los bares de antes
y corroborar que todo es lo mismo en todas partes
que no hay que tomarse las cosas tan a pecho
pues al fin y al cabo nadie sale ileso
de este fragil camino hacia la nada.
Para qué volver a casa
Si ya me encuentro en ella? | RETURNING HOME The journey has been long and hazardous.
There is still a handful of mountains
of cities and rivers,
the sound of some bodies,
certain nights
configuring the galaxies with their hands,
thousands of words and some faces.
There are also some evenings looking at the sea.
Returning home, with just some books
in the suitcase, several unfinished poems,
a schedule of trains and fictions.
Going back home to the town with red roofs
Where the friends and the bars of the past are now gone
and to confirm that everything is the same everywhere
that there is no need to take things too seriously
since, anyhow, no one is left unharmed
On this frail path that leads nowhere.
Why return home
When I am already there?
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A heart tugging rendition of a traveler, you posted here, Jack. I hope whichever direction you choose to take, would bring you closer to the destination, you desire. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem:
ReplyDeleteque no hay que tomarse las cosas tan a pecho
pues al fin y al cabo nadie sale ileso
de este fragil camino hacia la nada.
This said it all to me, camino hacia la nada, sometimes makes me wonder...
Home is a nurturing word. I have read this poem through a few times. At first it seemed so sad, but now I don't know. Home is a fond memory, but at the same time, it is our ever-present surroundings. It is always with us, and we with it. Home is what we create for ourselves. Thought-provoking poem.
ReplyDeletequite beautiful, no not sad or lonely, just there.
ReplyDeleteG'day Jack & friends,
ReplyDeleteWe are very like the snail, the difference, he carries his home on his back, ours in our heart.
It's not so sad, I have utilized this time up where I am and now it's time to go home - home is "just there". Tomorrow I leave for another city. And the vacation time is over an now it's back into the "real world" rather than just being here in this place that I came to but shall return to it. My computer is going slow, and wishing you all well. And home is what is within.
ReplyDeletePeace to each and everyone of you.
Travel safe where ever you go.........home is a place where you are happy living in it.......God Bless!
ReplyDeleteAm now in new city Leticia as of 4 hour ago.
ReplyDeleteSometimes it's good to get away from things, and then sometimes it's wonderful to return home to your own pillow.
ReplyDeleteWill any of us know where we are happiest? If we're here, we want to be there, if we're there, we want to be here. Good grief! Traveling can take a toll on you. Remember it's the traveling and not you and you'll be fine.
I love the travel, I can't tell you how much I love the tavelling part.
ReplyDeleteBienvenido a casa!!!
ReplyDeleteGracias - No he regresado a casa estoy en Edmonton. Las vacaciones y ahora es de mas tiempo para el trabajo y la transferencio
ReplyDeleteInteresting poem. That photo has me smiling in fond memory. It reminds me of the view I used to have when looking down, while climbing around in my favorite aunts milking barn. I had some wonderful times as a child playing with my siblings and cousins on that farm.
ReplyDeleteNorma we all are the same in many ways.
ReplyDelete