dimarts, 30 d’abril de 2013

English Translation: The Book of Love

 For Bel Olid
Mother, its me. Open your eyes, please. There are so many things I want to tell you. Do you remember that morning when we went together to the beach of Saint Pol? The day we had a sand storm so strong as we had never seen before. Three or four other walkers, lost like us, trying to avoid the waves... the sand that filled our eyes, nose, mouth... and the child who seemed ready to fly!... Do you remember? Today I went to see that beach again, Mother. I took with me your last book and sat at a cafe, facing the sea. It was a nice day. Just a few people. Sunny. I opened your book by the middle, as you taught me: "Read a passage, any one, wherever you happen to open the book, and see if it speaks to you." Lola's name jumped off the page. Then I opened the book to the first page. "If the passage in the middle of the page speaks to you, then go to the first page. And if this page also speaks to you, if it makes you curious, then buy the book," you used to say. I still remember... I still remember Lola: small and always disheveled. I could never have imagined her young, very young. And now, look at her, she comes up on the first page. The girl with the flame-red hair, always with a book. Reserved and insignificant to others. With her faded jeans and black T-shirts. Her intense eyes always hidden under bangs perpetually too long. I spent all morning reading your book on the beach of Saint Pol, Mother. I shuddered at the lovemaking the two of you shared the first night you spent together. Your passion still burns the page. I was moved by Lola's surprised silence when you--so determined, so strong, so...so...so you!--told her that you had decided to have a child. "You know what, Lola-Lolita, my love, my princess, my slave, my friend. You know what, I will have the child with you, yes, with you, because you will be the mother of my son. You and me, Lolita, we will have a son, and we will be happy and live together forever, until the end of the world!" ...I got angry at grandmother when she stopped talking to you. I laughed with you when you saw me for the first time, so tiny, so blue, fresh out of your wonderful womb. I relived your youth with you this morning, Mother ....
And you see, I arrived too late.
            You still have things to tell me, Mother. There are things I still want to hear. Open your eyes, Mother. Tell me more about you. Open your eyes, please.
You can always die tomorrow, Mother.

Translated by Lina Strenio

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Multumesc. Gràcies. Gracias. Thank you.