viernes, 5 de marzo de 2010

The flying man

                             It is not possible for me to even imagine
                  that love can be made any other way but flying
                                                                Oliverio Girondo

I only really talk with the flying man,
the others always think I'm the fan noise,
when they hear me, they feel cooler

                   and even someone has had to take shelter.

So, if I have to make you fly, wrong way, boy,
if I have to make you fly,
sorry but not, I'm sorry for you.
you already must know how to fly to keep me company
and not lying down next to a grave always ready to be opened  /by your side
doubting if you shoot me in or not.

Anyone can jump into the void
                                 any child
but staying in the air ...
ah! staying in the air...
feeling the tickle in your tummy
and let you feel them
overcoming the obstacles, without pausing in their /contemplation 
sustained flight,
is really the heroic issue
requires a grace without any prospect,
but an undisguised grace, humbly transparent
like the glance of a viking.

I'm sorry for you, boy,
you hide behind your horn-rimmed glasses,
on your isle of complacency, of autocracy, of authority, /autarchy, autonomy, automaton…
... and egotism -as Onfray would say-,
you die for an instruction manual.

If you don't know how to fly, you are wasting your time with me.

Today Casanova knocked on my door
and with husky voice confessed it was true,
nobody had taught him to be vulnerable.

He cried
and started playing like a child.

Now, he is Giacomo,
the Luisa Contini’s Giacomo.

The easy flattery is stronger than you
and everyone knows it's impossible to be hooked to the skirt  /of mummy
and play the ball as well.
that’s it,
the man who plays always seems more vulnerable,
but it only seems, because he doesn't hide that he is desiring  /and lacking.
also he is the only one who knows how to fly,
without falling,
the one who knows the rules and limits
the one who knows the other
and dominates the most important rule of game,
doesn't win the one who wins.

Only the man who flies follow me,
but if you don't know how to fly, oh no, boy,
- and in this I'm irreducible-
you  are wasting your time with me.

1 comentario:

  1. He leído las dos versiones, me gusta cómo suenan ambas. Creo que aciertas con todo lo que dices y usas la única forma posible de decirlo: la poesía. Es tan irracional y comprensible, tan matemático y misterioso. Podrías escribir una tesis sobre el hombre que no vuela, que es a quien realmente dibujas a la perfección.