LENGUAS MUERTAS
Las trajinadas lenguas muertas
no son tan sólo griego antiguo
latín y sánscrito y sumerio
son asimismo lenguas muertas
o casi muertas / pero nuevas/
el fingimiento el ditirambo
la demagogia el subterfugio
el fanatismo los agüeros
las viejas lenguas eran vivas
cuando vibraban en la gente
y eran el habla del esclavo
del campesino y del apóstol
del artesano y de la puta
las viejas lenguas se murieron
de aburrimiento y de pudor
al recalar en falsos mitos
y amontonarse en los sermones
y sin embargo si les damos
otra vigencia/ otro destino
otro sabor / las lenguas muertas
pueden cambiar de signo y pueden
resucitar al tercer día.
Mario Benedetti
(del Writer's Almanac de hoy, 16 oct 2007)
Losing a Language
by W.S. Merwin
A breath leaves the sentences and does not come back
yet the old still remember something that they could say
but they know now that such things are no longer believed
and the young have fewer words
many of the things the words were about
no longer exist
the noun for standing in mist by a haunted tree
the verb for I
the children will not repeat
the phrases their parents speak
somebody has persuaded them
that it is better to say everything differently
so that they can be admired somewhere
farther and farther away
where nothing that is here is known
we have little to say to each other
we are wrong and dark
in the eyes of the new owners
the radio is incomprehensible
the day is glass
when there is a voice at the door it is foreign
everywhere instead of a name there is a lie
nobody has seen it happening
nobody remembers
this is what the words were made
to prophesy
here are the extinct feathers
here is the rain we saw
many of the things the words were about
no longer exist
[...]
the noun for standing in mist by a haunted tree
the verb for I
when there is a voice at the door it is foreign
everywhere instead of a name there is a lie
[...]
nobody has seen it happening
nobody remembers
Benvenuto un'altra volta, Paul (I remember you speak Italian 
... much better than me)
Bien hermosas las líneas que elegiste para tu 'reestreno'.
A ver si te vemos más seguido por aquí.
Saludos,
Alicia
(del Writer's Almanac de hoy, 16 oct 2007)
Losing a Language
by W.S. Merwin
A breath leaves the sentences and does not come back
yet the old still remember something that they could say
but they know now that such things are no longer believed
and the young have fewer words
many of the things the words were about
no longer exist
the noun for standing in mist by a haunted tree
the verb for I
the children will not repeat
the phrases their parents speak
somebody has persuaded them
that it is better to say everything differently
so that they can be admired somewhere
farther and farther away
where nothing that is here is known
we have little to say to each other
we are wrong and dark
in the eyes of the new owners
the radio is incomprehensible
the day is glass
when there is a voice at the door it is foreign
everywhere instead of a name there is a lie
nobody has seen it happening
nobody remembers
this is what the words were made
to prophesy
here are the extinct feathers
here is the rain we saw
Thank you Paul!
I NEED that Writer's Almanac! Is it on-line stuff? Can it be downloaded or is it a real something?
Aau
Hi, Alicia, Aurora,
Come stanno le cose nello Messico?
Yeah, I listen to Writer's Almanac every morning at nine. It's only five minutes long, but puts a good spin on the day...
On line, it's:
http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/
peace,
Paul