Esperant

Fa mesos que espere. Massa. És l’última vegada que espere. I no esperaré més. Aquesta cançó del videoclip, dels Obrint Pas, és una glossa musical del poema «Maternitat», de Marc Granell:

MATERNITAT

Esperant.
Esperant que vinga la mare.
Esperant.
Esperant que escolten. Esperant.
Esperant la nina que prometeren.
Esperant.
Esperant parar taula. Esperant.
Esperant que el pare acabe de mirar el futbol.
Esperant.
Esperant que cresquen els pits.
Esperant.
Esperant brodar l’aixovar pulcríssim.
Esperant.
Esperant l’orgasme. Esperant.
Esperant fer el sopar
per quan l’home torne. Esperant.
Esperant tenir el fill.
Esperant.
Esperant que el fill cresca.
Esperant.
Esperant el metge. Esperant.
Esperant veure Déu.
Esperant.
El rector ho assegurava. Esperant.
Esperant.
Almenys ser pols. Esperant.

Marc Granell

«The dragonfly», de Louise Bogan

You are made of almost nothing
But of enough
To be great eyes
And diaphanous double vans;
To be ceaseless movement,
Unending hunger
Grappling love.

Link between water and air,
Earth repels you.
Light touches you only to shift into iridescence
Upon your body and wings.

Twice-born, predator,
You split into the heat.
Swift beyond calculation or capture
You dart into the shadow
Which consumes you.

You rocket into the day.
But at last, when the wind flattens the grasses,
For you, the design and purpose stop.

And you fall
With the other husks of summer.

Louise Bogan

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«Song», de Christina G. Rossetti

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.

Christina G. Rossetti

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«The road not taken», de Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost
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Jo el penge

Els noticiaris d’ahir no arribaren a dedicar ni 30 segons a les mobilitzacions contra els Expedients de Regulació d’Ocupació fraudulents i la generalitzada destrucció de llocs de treball a tot l’Estat i, especialment, a Catalunya i al País Valencià. Si bé és cert que als mèdia de Catalunya hi van tenir més ressó, els mitjans de comunicació espanyols relegaren la notícia d’una manera infame. He volgut deixar penjat aquest video que mai no veurà Obama, mentre els polítics es dediquen a llançar mirades transatlàntiques i a guardar l’esperança en formol.

«The Snow Man», de Wallace Stevens

The Snow Man
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Wallace Stevens

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