Jotamario Arbeláez
RAIN POEM
All my chilhood it rained.
The tall women in the family
fluttered between the wires
taking out the clothes. And sweeping
towards the patio
the water that flooded the rooms.
We put washbowls and chamber pots
to gather the dripping of the leaks
and when they overflowed we emptied them in the drain.
We went about barefoot with our pants rolled up,
all of our shoes protected on a shelf.
Mother rushed to the living room with a sheet of plastic
to cover the encyclopedia.
The light of the flashes of lightning came through the roof.
Under the flood from the sky
my grandmother lit a candle stub
and her prayers did not let it go out.
The electricity went off all night.
I was lucky enough to have a rubber raincoat
my father made for me
to be able to go to school
without my notebooks getting wet.
I wore out shoes by just putting them on.
One day the sun came out.
My father was already dead.
POEMA DE INVIERNO
POEMA DE INVIERNO
Llovió toda mi infancia.
Las mujeres altas de la familia
aleteaban entre los alambres
descolgando la ropa. Y achicando
hacia el patio
el agua que oleaba a los cuartos.
Aparábamos las goteras del techo
colocando platones y bacinillas
que vaciábamos al sifón cuando desbordaban.
Andábamos descalzos remangados los pantalones,
los zapatos de todos amparados en la repisa.
Madre volaba con un plástico hacia la sala
para cubrir la enciclopedia.
Atravesaba los tejados la luz de los rayos.
A la sombra del palo de agua
colocaba mi abuela un cabo de vela
y sus rezos no dejaban que se apagara.
Se iba la luz toda la noche.
Tuve la dicha de una impermeable de hule
que me cosió mi madre
para poder ir a la escuela
sin mojar los cuadernos.
Acaba zapatos con solo ponérmelos.
Un día salió el sol.
Ya mi padre había muerto.
From: La casa de memoria
Publisher: Ministerio de Cultura, Bogota
RAIN POEM
All my chilhood it rained.
The tall women in the family
fluttered between the wires
taking out the clothes. And sweeping
towards the patio
the water that flooded the rooms.
We put washbowls and chamber pots
to gather the dripping of the leaks
and when they overflowed we emptied them in the drain.
We went about barefoot with our pants rolled up,
all of our shoes protected on a shelf.
Mother rushed to the living room with a sheet of plastic
to cover the encyclopedia.
The light of the flashes of lightning came through the roof.
Under the flood from the sky
my grandmother lit a candle stub
and her prayers did not let it go out.
The electricity went off all night.
I was lucky enough to have a rubber raincoat
my father made for me
to be able to go to school
without my notebooks getting wet.
I wore out shoes by just putting them on.
One day the sun came out.
My father was already dead.
From: La casa de memoria
RAIN POEM
All my chilhood it rained.
The tall women in the family
fluttered between the wires
taking out the clothes. And sweeping
towards the patio
the water that flooded the rooms.
We put washbowls and chamber pots
to gather the dripping of the leaks
and when they overflowed we emptied them in the drain.
We went about barefoot with our pants rolled up,
all of our shoes protected on a shelf.
Mother rushed to the living room with a sheet of plastic
to cover the encyclopedia.
The light of the flashes of lightning came through the roof.
Under the flood from the sky
my grandmother lit a candle stub
and her prayers did not let it go out.
The electricity went off all night.
I was lucky enough to have a rubber raincoat
my father made for me
to be able to go to school
without my notebooks getting wet.
I wore out shoes by just putting them on.
One day the sun came out.
My father was already dead.