Poem
Jorge Bustamante García
THE HOUSE
This is the house. The open windowslet in the light and a dim
duskiness hides in the corners.
Gentle smells wander through the hallways:
eucaliptus, willow, mint,
basil leaves, almond trees, pines,
arepas* turned golden by the fire.
It looks like childhood.
Yellow walls and a courtyard of gray tiles
are the small backdrop
to our children games. Little birds
and roosters perch on the roof.
A man with gray hair
stands by the door looking at us.
A woman, still beautiful, punctually
serves us chocolate at five.
This is the house. The front
door is open
and a misty rain dims the landscape.
© Translation: 2006, Blanca Maldonado
* Arepas are flat meal cakes of maize flour, split in half and filled with cheese and a great variety of fillings.
LA CASA
LA CASA
Esta es la casa. Las ventanas abiertasdejan caer la luz y una frágil
penumbra se esconde en los rincones.
Suaves olores deambulan por los corredores:
eucaliptos, sauces, hierbabuena,
hojas de albahaca, almendros, pinos,
arepas doradas al fuego.
Parece ser la infancia.
Paredes amarillas y un patio de baldosas
grises son el pequeño escenario
de nuestros juegos. Sobre el tejado
se paran los pájaros y los gallinazos.
Un hombre de cabellos grises
nos mira desde la puerta.
Una mujer todavía hermosa nos sirve
puntual el chocolate de las cinco.
Esta es la casa. La puerta
de la calle está abierta
y una llovizna empaña el paisaje.
© 1986, Jorge Bustamante García
From: La invención del viaje
Publisher: Los Libros del Fakir, México D.F.
From: La invención del viaje
Publisher: Los Libros del Fakir, México D.F.
Poems
Poems of Jorge Bustamante García
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THE HOUSE
This is the house. The open windowslet in the light and a dim
duskiness hides in the corners.
Gentle smells wander through the hallways:
eucaliptus, willow, mint,
basil leaves, almond trees, pines,
arepas* turned golden by the fire.
It looks like childhood.
Yellow walls and a courtyard of gray tiles
are the small backdrop
to our children games. Little birds
and roosters perch on the roof.
A man with gray hair
stands by the door looking at us.
A woman, still beautiful, punctually
serves us chocolate at five.
This is the house. The front
door is open
and a misty rain dims the landscape.
© 2006, Blanca Maldonado
From: La invención del viaje
From: La invención del viaje
THE HOUSE
This is the house. The open windowslet in the light and a dim
duskiness hides in the corners.
Gentle smells wander through the hallways:
eucaliptus, willow, mint,
basil leaves, almond trees, pines,
arepas* turned golden by the fire.
It looks like childhood.
Yellow walls and a courtyard of gray tiles
are the small backdrop
to our children games. Little birds
and roosters perch on the roof.
A man with gray hair
stands by the door looking at us.
A woman, still beautiful, punctually
serves us chocolate at five.
This is the house. The front
door is open
and a misty rain dims the landscape.
© 2006, Blanca Maldonado
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