domingo, 23 de noviembre de 2008

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop

Cada cierto tiempo vuelvo a este poema, la primera vez lo encontré tan emocionante, me pareció triste, el vacío se apoderó de mi pecho y un nudo de mi garganta. Ahora lo leo y me siento un poco más en él... como si estuviese entendiendo un poco, como si lo hubiese vivido y la lectura es más relajada.

No he pasado por grandes pérdidas en mi vida, pero desde niña he tenido la sensación de que he dejado ir cosas importantes, que he tenido que elegir, ya sea caminos, afectos, discursos, ideas, incluso cosas tan naturales como expresarse o sentir...

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