Poem
Julián Malatesta
THE PORT OF MACHALA
The old sailor told ofA cave by the sea
From which every night,
With fine sheets of air
And the sparkle of pins in the sand,
A woman came out,
A woman, as graceful as the fire’s flames,
With breasts like coconut pitchers
And black like tar
Who walked the streets of the port of Machala
Looking for unfaithful men
And had them make love to her on the dock,
Where the sea wets the wood.
No woman of Machala kept her husband, only
From time to time small boys turned up
Come from the sea and oblivion,
The men never came back,
They say they are in the sea like the fish
And the boys talk with them
And call them “fathers” in the market when they sell them.
© Translation: 2006, Nicolás Suescún
Puerto de Machala
Puerto de Machala
Contó el viejo marinero,El mar tuvo una cueva,
Todas las noches,
Con las finas láminas del aire
Y el destello de alfileres en la arena,
Salía de ella una mujer,
Una mujer esbelta como la llama de la hoguera,
De senos como cántaros de coco
Y negra como la brea,
Recorría las calles del puerto de Machala
En busca de hombres infieles
Y se hacía amar por ellos en el muelle
Donde el mar humedece la madera.
Ninguna mujer en Machala conservó el marido,
Sólo de tanto en tanto aparecían chiquillos
Venidos del mar y del olvido,
Los hombres jamás volvieron,
Dicen que están en el mar como los peces
Y los muchachos conversan con ellos
Y les dicen padres en el mercado cuando los venden.
© 1995, Julián Malatesta
From: Alguien habita la memoria
Publisher: Universidad del Valle, Cali
From: Alguien habita la memoria
Publisher: Universidad del Valle, Cali
Poems
Poems of Julián Malatesta
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THE PORT OF MACHALA
The old sailor told ofA cave by the sea
From which every night,
With fine sheets of air
And the sparkle of pins in the sand,
A woman came out,
A woman, as graceful as the fire’s flames,
With breasts like coconut pitchers
And black like tar
Who walked the streets of the port of Machala
Looking for unfaithful men
And had them make love to her on the dock,
Where the sea wets the wood.
No woman of Machala kept her husband, only
From time to time small boys turned up
Come from the sea and oblivion,
The men never came back,
They say they are in the sea like the fish
And the boys talk with them
And call them “fathers” in the market when they sell them.
© 2006, Nicolás Suescún
From: Alguien habita la memoria
From: Alguien habita la memoria
THE PORT OF MACHALA
The old sailor told ofA cave by the sea
From which every night,
With fine sheets of air
And the sparkle of pins in the sand,
A woman came out,
A woman, as graceful as the fire’s flames,
With breasts like coconut pitchers
And black like tar
Who walked the streets of the port of Machala
Looking for unfaithful men
And had them make love to her on the dock,
Where the sea wets the wood.
No woman of Machala kept her husband, only
From time to time small boys turned up
Come from the sea and oblivion,
The men never came back,
They say they are in the sea like the fish
And the boys talk with them
And call them “fathers” in the market when they sell them.
© 2006, Nicolás Suescún
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