LOLA JATTIN
By Raúl Gómez Jattin
Translated by Nicolás Suescún
Beyond the night that twinkles in childhood
Even beyond my first memory
is Lola – my mother – in front of a shop window
powdering her face and doing her hair
She is already thirty and beautiful and strong
and she is in love with Joaquín Pablo – my old man –
She doesn’t know that I hide in her belly ready
for the time when her strong life will need the strength of mine
Beyond these tears that run down my face
beyond her inmense pain which is like a stab
is Lola – the dead one – still vibrant and alive
sitting in the balcony looking at the bright stars
when the breeze from the ciénaga
untidies her hair and she combs it again
with something of concerted laziness and pleasure
Beyond this instant that has passed and will not come back
I am hiding in the flow of time that takes me
far away and that I now sense beforehand
Beyond these verses that secretly kill me
is old age – death – the endless time
when the two memories: my mother’s and mine
will become a single memory: these verses
Even beyond my first memory
is Lola – my mother – in front of a shop window
powdering her face and doing her hair
She is already thirty and beautiful and strong
and she is in love with Joaquín Pablo – my old man –
She doesn’t know that I hide in her belly ready
for the time when her strong life will need the strength of mine
Beyond these tears that run down my face
beyond her inmense pain which is like a stab
is Lola – the dead one – still vibrant and alive
sitting in the balcony looking at the bright stars
when the breeze from the ciénaga
untidies her hair and she combs it again
with something of concerted laziness and pleasure
Beyond this instant that has passed and will not come back
I am hiding in the flow of time that takes me
far away and that I now sense beforehand
Beyond these verses that secretly kill me
is old age – death – the endless time
when the two memories: my mother’s and mine
will become a single memory: these verses
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