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Poetry

Making Peace

By Rafael Cadenas
Translated from Spanish by Lucy Greaves

Let’s come to an agreement, poem.
I’ll stop forcing you to say what you don’t mean
and you won’t resist my desires.
We’ve wrestled a lot, you and I.
Why insist on creating yourself in my image
when you know things I’m ignorant of?
Free yourself from me
Run away and don’t look back.
Save yourself before it’s too late.
See, you always outdo me,
you know how to say what inspires you
and I don’t,
because you’re more than yourself,
and I’m just trying to recognise myself in you.
I have manifold desires
and you have none,
you just press on regardless
not looking at the hand that you move
and which thinks it owns you when it feels you spring forth
like matter new-created.
Impose your direction on the one doing the writing, all he
knows is how to hide,
to conceal novelty, to become less.
His lot is tired
reiteration.

Poem,
push me aside.

“Las Paces,” © Rafael Cadenas. Translation © 2014 by Lucy Greaves. All rights reserved.

English Spanish (Original)

Let’s come to an agreement, poem.
I’ll stop forcing you to say what you don’t mean
and you won’t resist my desires.
We’ve wrestled a lot, you and I.
Why insist on creating yourself in my image
when you know things I’m ignorant of?
Free yourself from me
Run away and don’t look back.
Save yourself before it’s too late.
See, you always outdo me,
you know how to say what inspires you
and I don’t,
because you’re more than yourself,
and I’m just trying to recognise myself in you.
I have manifold desires
and you have none,
you just press on regardless
not looking at the hand that you move
and which thinks it owns you when it feels you spring forth
like matter new-created.
Impose your direction on the one doing the writing, all he
knows is how to hide,
to conceal novelty, to become less.
His lot is tired
reiteration.

Poem,
push me aside.

“Las Paces,” © Rafael Cadenas. Translation © 2014 by Lucy Greaves. All rights reserved.

Las paces

LLEGUEMOS a un acuerdo, poema.
Ya no te forzaré a decir lo que no quieres
ni tú te resistirás tanto a lo que deseo.
Hemos forcejeado mucho.
¿Para qué este empeño en hacerte a mi imagen
cuando sabes cosas que no sospecho?
Líbrate de mí.
Huye sin mirar atrás.
Sálvate antes de que sea tarde.
Pues siempre me rebasas,
sabes decir lo que te impulsa
y yo no,
porque eres más que tú mismo,
y yo sólo soy el que trata de reconocerse en ti.
Tengo la extensión de mi deseo
y tú no tienes ninguno,
sólo avanzas hacia donde te diriges
sin mirar la mano que mueves
y cree poseerte cuando te siente brotar de ella
como una sustancia que se erige.
Imponle tu curso al que escribe, él
sólo sabe ocultarse,
cubrir la novedad, empobrecerse.
Lo que muestra es una reiteración
cansada.

Poema,
apártame de ti.

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