Empieza a leer 'Omeros' de Derek Walcott

BOOK ONE
Chapter I
I

LIBRO PRIMERO
Capítulo I
I

“This is how, one sunrise, we cut down them canoes.”
Philoctete smiles for the tourists, who try taking
his soul with their cameras. “Once wind bring the news

“Así es como, una alborada, tumbamos las canoas.”
Filoctetes sonríe para los turistas que intentan robarle
el alma con las cámaras. “Luego que el viento da aviso

to the laurier-cannelles, their leaves start shaking
the minute the axe of sunlight hit the cedars,
because they could see the axes in our own eyes.

a los laurier-canelles, las hojas comienzan a inquietarse
en el momento en que el hacha del sol hiere los cedros,
pues veían las hachas en nuestros propios ojos.

Wind lift the ferns. They sound like the sea that feed us
fishermen all our life, and the ferns nodded ‘Yes,
the trees have to die.’ So, fists jam in our jacket,

Alza el viento los helechos. Suenan como el mar que nos mantiene
a los pescadores toda la vida, y los helechos cabecean: ‘Sí, los árboles
tienen que morir.’ Así, con los puños estrujados en la chaqueta,

cause the heights was cold and our breath making feathers
like the mist, we pass the rum. When it came back, it
give us the spirit to turn into murderers.

porque en los montes hacía frío y nuestro aliento pelechaba
como la niebla, turnamos el ron. Cuando el ron se repite,
nos da el coraje para volvernos asesinos.

I lift up the axe and pray for strength in my hands
to wound the first cedar. Dew was filling my eyes,
but I fire one more white rum. Then we advance.”

Levanto el hacha y pido fuerza a mis manos para herir
al primero de los cedros. El rocío afloraba a mis ojos,
pero me zampo otro ron blanco. Enseguida avanzamos.”

For some extra silver, under a sea-almond,
he shows them a scar made by a rusted anchor,
rolling one trouser-leg up with the rising moan

Por una moneda más de plata, bajo un almendro de mar,
les enseña luego la cicatriz que le hizo un ancla oxidada,
arrollándose el pantalón con el plañido creciente

of a conch. It has puckered like the corolla
of a sea-urchin. He does not explain its cure.
“It have some things”–he smiles–”worth more than a dollar.”

de una trompa de caracol. Se ha fruncido como la corola
de un erizo de mar. No explica cómo se la cura.
“Tiene algunas cosas –sonríe– que valen más de un dólar.”

He has left it to a garrulous waterfall
to pour out his secret down La Sorcière, since
the tall laurels fell, for the ground-dove’s mating call

Ha dejado que sea locuaz cascada la que precipite a raudales
su secreto La Sorcière abajo, una vez derribados
los altos laureles, para que el arrullo de la zurita

to pass on its note to the blue, tacit mountains
whose talkative brooks, carrying it to the sea,
turn into idle pools where the clear minnows shoot

eche a volar su canto por azules montes tácitos
de parlanchines arroyos cuyas aguas, al llevarlo a la mar,
se tornan ociosos remansos donde bullen tersos jaramugos

and an egret stalks the reeds with one rusted cry
as it stabs and stabs the mud with one lifting foot.
Then silence is sawn in half by a dragonfly

cuando una garza pesca al acecho en los juncos con oxidado grito
mientras su pata libre fisga una y otra vez el légamo.
Y el silencio es partido en dos por una libélula

as eels sign their names along the clear bottom-sand,
when the sunrise brightens the river’s memory
and waves of huge ferns are nodding to the sea’s sound.

mientras anguilas trazan su firma por la suave arena del fondo,
a la hora en que el alba aviva la memoria del río
y oleadas de helechos gigantes se mecen con el tumbo del mar.

Although smoke forgets the earth from which it ascends,
and nettles guard the holes where the laurels were killed,
an iguana hears the axes, clouding each lens

Aunque el humo se olvide de la tierra de donde asciende, aunque
las ortigas protejan los hoyos donde fueron matados los laureles,
una iguana oye las hachas y sus ojos se anublan

over its lost name, when the hunched island was called
“Iounalao,” “Where the iguana is found.”
But, taking its own time, the iguana will scale

por su nombre ya perdido, cuando la encorvada isla
era llamada “Iounalao”, “Donde hay iguanas”.
Pero la iguana, con toda calma, al cabo de un año

the rigging of vines in a year, its dewlap fanned,
its elbows akimbo, its deliberate tail
moving with the island. The slit pods of its eyes

ha de escalar la jarcia de las lianas, con la papada
abierta en abanico, los codos en jarras y la cola cauta
meneándose con la isla. Las bolsas hendidas de sus ojos

ripened in a pause that lasted for centuries,
that rose with the Aruacs’ smoke till a new race
unknown to the lizard stood measuring the trees.

maduraron durante una pausa que duró siglos y se elevó
con el humo de los arahuacos hasta que una nueva raza,
por el lagarto ignorada, se irguió marcando límites a los árboles.

These were their pillars that fell, leaving a blue space
for a single God where the old gods stood before.
The first god was a gommier. The generator

began with a whine, and a shark, with sidewise jaw,
sent the chips flying like mackerel over water
into trembling weeds. Now they cut off the saw,

still hot and shaking, to examine the wound it
had made. They scraped off its gangrenous moss, then ripped
the wound clear of the net of vines that still bound it

to this earth, and nodded. The generator whipped
back to its work, and the chips flew much faster as
the shark’s teeth gnawed evenly. They covered their eyes

from the splintering nest. Now, over the pastures
of bananas, the island lifted its horns. Sunrise
trickled down its valleys, blood splashed on the cedars,

and the grove flooded with the light of sacrifice.
A gommier was cracking. Its leaves an enormous
tarpaulin with the ridgepole gone. The creaking sound

made the fishermen leap back as the angling mast
leant slowly towards the troughs of ferns; then the ground
shuddered under the feet in waves, then the waves passed.