Elegy for the Sea
Translated by: Liam Walke
Artwork by Anonymous
I, who learned to look at myself in your mirrors,
who discovered life through your bonds,
who knelt the nights down at my feet
to find a remedy
for the sickly sensation of my melancholy,
for the sweet sadness that made its return
and assured its place forever between us.
You, who were
a piece of me
just as rain is part of winter;
you, who never gave in, never held back,
as cyclical in your steps as the motionless moon
tattooed on your skin.
And now you are here,
in front of me again,
reluctant to see me defeated,
to count my feats as disasters.
Tired before my eyes, so tired
that I sense your unfortunate end,
an end where no one would take your apathy
over the trembling of any reason.
We are no longer the child
who searched in the night
for the timely antidote to happiness,
questions with strength and audacity,
who never gave up fighting without cause,
who never held a goodbye in his hand.
Wrapped in foam
there is nothing left of you but your misfortune.
Might it be because cities are submerged
or perhaps because the cold has defeated you,
the cold that the years leave
so deep inside bodies that there are hardly any symptoms anymore
of this sad facade, of this somnambular pain,
of the fear of being so alone against the world.
Fernando Valverde is a critically acclaimed poet based in Granada, Spain. Among the most talented (and awarded) peninsular poets of his generation, his work has been published in Spain (by Visor Libros) and throughout Latin America, Italy, and the United States. Valverde is the director and co-founder of the Festival Internacional de poesía de Granada.