sábado, 31 de diciembre de 2011

Kilkelly, Ireland

Kilkelly, Ireland

La conmovedora historia de un padre que tiene que ver a sus emigrar de Mayo a America, para nunca regresar. Escribe una carta cada 10 años para conocer el estado de sus hijos y enviar noticias suyas.





Kilkelly
Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 60, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend the schoolmaster Pat McNamara's so good
As to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England,
The house is so empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected,
A third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell
Are going to be married in June.
Your mother says not to work on the railroad
And be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 70, dear and loving son John
Hello to your Mrs and to your 4 children,
May they grow healthy and strong.
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
I guess that he never will learn.
Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of
And now we have nothing to burn.
And Brigid is happy, you named a child for her
And now she's got six of her own.
You say you found work, but you don't say
What kind or when you will be coming home.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 80, dear Michael and John, my sons
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news
That your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
Your brothers and Brigid were there.
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly,
Remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning,
With money he's sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people
Are selling at any price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 90, my dear and loving son John
I guess that I must be close on to eighty,
It's thirty years since you're gone.
Because of all of the money you send me,
I'm still living out on my own.
Michael has built himself a fine house
And Brigid's daughters have grown.
Thank you for sending your family picture,
They're lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit,
What joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 92, my dear brother John
I'm sorry that I didn't write sooner to tell you that father passed on.
He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful
And healthy right down to the end.
Ah, you should have seen him play with
The grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother,
Down at the Kilkelly churchyard.
He was a strong and a feisty old man,
Considering his life was so hard.
And it's funny the way he kept talking about you,
He called for you in the end.
Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit,
We'd all love to see you again.
 
 
Conoced la dicha de la familia, mientras aún la conservéis.

Ejercicio interior


Ejercicio interior

Me quiero a mi mismo.
Soy todo lo que tengo en este mundo.
Mi cuerpo y mi mente.

Sé que soy la única persona que estará conmigo toda mi vida.
Si bien comparto gran parte de ella con mis seres queridos,
personas cercanas a quienes he elegido.

Soy la forma en que el universo toma consciencia de si mismo.
En mi mano está el poder de crear y destruir.
Levantar enormes edificios o acabar con todo lo que conocemos.
Dar la vida; o la muerte.
Escoger hacer bien o mal al resto de nosotros y a mi mismo.

Soy un ente de energía pura,
canalizada a través de este envase hecho de agua.
Un contenedor condenado, pues todo tiene su fin y su final.
Lo que haga es lo que importa. Lo que consiga lograr.

Tanto los placeres como sufrimientos son necesarios.
El deseo produce sufrimiento si no lo obtenemos,
dicha al alcanzarlo y dolor al perderlo.
Es esa voluntad de acero, la determinación,
la que nos propulsa por el buen camino.

El conformismo nos deja dormidos,
mientras que la curiosidad
nos invita a descubrir nuevos horizontes.

La risa nos recuerda la alegría de estar vivo.
El llanto nos obliga a reconocer la limitación.

El control confirma que somos poderosos.
El caos, es todo lo demás.

Jiang Tseng

Opuestos


Opuestos

Amor necesita expresión
Odio requiere olvido

Egoismo no es amor propio
Altruismo no es rechazar a uno mismo

Soy tan importante como el siguiente o el anterior.
Ninguno es superior ni inferior a otro.
Somos el mismo ente en otro tiempo y circunstancia.

Cada cual tiene sus habilidades, más o menos desarrolladas.
El primer y último responsable de mi mismo y de mis actos soy solo yo.
La culpa no es importante, la actitud si lo es.
Sin embargo lo hecho, hecho está: aunque la intención fuese otra.

Somos la mezcla de El Todo y La Nada.
Lo que hay en medio de lo que existe y lo que no existe.

Jiang Tseng

Dear World


Dear World,

This year I’ve been rather a good boy. But you weren’t! All those wars, blackmail, extortion, torture, influence pedding, threats…
I want you to change that, so I could improve my behavior.

So, my wishes for the New Year are:


For every war, put there a party
Each time a blackmail is offered              
Turn it back into a present 
Things don’t  end well easy way

If you expect to do nothing
You’re doing bad young man
Everyone a purpose has
Awake already! You’ve been sleeping!

As we all are capable
We could bring worst or better
Choose carefully the venerable

The why I write this letter
Is I wish a world respectable
Get freed from your own fetter!


My true best wishes.
Santa

viernes, 23 de diciembre de 2011

Dicha la dicha

Dicha la dicha

Partícipe soy de tu dicha
Cuan cerca estés
Nuestras almas se acarician
Si tu me ves
Intercambio de energías
En mi proximidad
Cúmulo de alegrías
Es la gran verdad

Mi corazón se agita
Cuando te vas
Vocea y hasta grita
Por regresar
A sentir tu presencia
Alante o atras

Jiang Tseng

lunes, 19 de diciembre de 2011

Ya no estás

Ya no estás

Conocernos fue brutal
Velozmente avanzamos
A saltos en vez de pasos
Tan de golpe que chocamos
En medio de un campo neutral

Caimos uno en el otro
Cual si fuese prima vez
Que otra persona quisiese
A uno mismo, pardiez!

De tan bueno, pareció,
Amor fingido por dos
El instinto desconfió

Poco tardo nuestro yo
En dar a este la razón
Con vanal explicación
Y pruebas sin ton ni son

He aquí sendos caminos
Que cruzaron la pasión
Para cortarse por un rio
Llueve a mares en mi interior

Somos tan parecidos
Con diferencia radial

Yo amo de mis adentros
Y me aman con maldad

Jiang Tseng

viernes, 16 de diciembre de 2011

PATRICK STREET – SWEET LIBSWEEMORE


PATRICK STREET – SWEET LIBSWEEMORE

One morning in the month of June
When sol’s bright beams the air illum’ed
My cattle from the yard I drove
and then stretched at my ease
The skylark sang melodiously
And a lovely lass appeared to me
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore

When I beheld this fair joung maid
my heart began to palpitate
My eyes began to dazzle
and her figure I could not state
She was loaded with some balls of thread,
the same she had upon her head
Passing through the turbary
In sweet libsweemore

When I saw this maid approaching me
my heart rose to a height of glee,
I stood with great alacrity
to accost this charming maid
Kind sir - She says - I'm going astray
Won’t you please now show me the way
That leads to the weaver's house
in sweet Lisbweemore?

There is no other human being
in showing the way can surpass me;
I know it from my infancy,
so come along, a stoir.
Or if you’ll agree to stay with me,
I'll always be your 'gra mo chroi',
Here by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore

She soon replied: "Indeed, I won't
You are a dirty scheming rogue
please desist from flattery
with a simple, honest maid
But if you're inclined to show the way,
then come along, don't me delay,
Here by the turbary,
in sweet Lisbweemore

What she said I did excuse,
her request I could not refuse
We both walked on together
And she this to me did say:
"Where lives that man they call D.D.?
his residence I'd like to see,
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore."

"Come along, my pretty maid,
don't be of me the least afraid;
I'll lead you through this rugged place
Where you never went before
And your guardian I will surely be
Until that joung man’s face we see
Here by the turbary,
in sweet Lisbweemore”

"The truth to you I will relate:
I do not wish to see his face;
The reason, too, I'll tell to you:
'tis early in the day.
And if he’d see us two alone
A song for us he might compose
Here by the turbary,
in sweet Lisbweemore”

"To do his best, what can he say ---
are we not honest going the way?
Besides, he has the [?tendency]
never to dispraise.
And another man were in my shoes
he'd spoil your thread, both warp and woof,
Here by the turbary,
in sweet Lisbweemore”

When this I said, without delay,
upon my word! she ran away!
In vain I followed after her
through flat and steeplechase.
No roe-buck in the park so quick could leap
each and the ceap and ditch
As she did through the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore!

And as she was too quick for me,
though I ran with great rapidity,
I was tumbled by the dint of speed
and topsy-turvy thrown.
Ere again on ground my foot I lay
She was a half of mile away
At least from the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore.

Canción:
PATRICK STREET – SWEET LIBSWEEMORE

jueves, 8 de diciembre de 2011

Soneto a la tu alegría

Soneto a la tu alegría

Cierto día asomaba en la puerta
Tan gran corazón que no entraba
Abracélo con fuerza sobrehumana
Presto cruzó el umbral con su oferta.

Felicidad a módico precio
Estaba escrito en su contrato
Siempre libre de todo maltrato
Arropando montañas de aprecio.

¡Que alegría! Espeté alborotado
¿Mas cuanto pide? Sondeé curioso
Solo su amistad caballero alocado

¡Genial! Absolutamente glorioso
Se verá satisfecha sin pecado
Merece mi amor volutarioso.

Jiang Tseng