[SPA-ENG] círculo (poema) | circle (poem)

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[SPA-ENG] círculo (poema) | circle (poem)
![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmQdGbHmpewkpubiCT5imrysARZcZS69YkqM9pYb4V85Gq/800px_jaguar_amneville.jpg)


## círculo

### I

corrí,
pisé las ramas caídas,
sangré con las espinas,
escuché el ruido de mis pasos,
busqué entre la espesura,
te dejé atrás sin comprender,
trepé al algarrobo,
respiré rápida y profundamente,
te miré:
un fantasma de barro
resplandeciente al sol

### II

traté de recordar
la palabra
que nos trajo hasta aquí,
me palpé las heridas,
vi las ramas quebrarse,
pasé mis dedos 
por la sangre,
cada palabra
es un camino,
grité

### III

fue extraño
pensar,
mi amor,
que había
dos yaguaretés:
uno,
hecho de palabras
y el otro,
un anhelo
oculto
en la espesura
del monte:
no podía
saber
cuál de los dos
despedazaba
tu cuerpo

### IV

hay un lugar
preciso
en la ciudad
(en cualquier
ciudad)
donde los jotes
vuelan en círculos:
debajo no hay nada,
ni carroña
ni carne fresca,
solo el asfalto
y los autos
que pasan
a toda velocidad:
si alguien
se para
en el centro
exacto
de ese círculo,
no siente nada
en especial:
solo la distancia
que lo separa
de la vida
<br>

---
[ENG - Translated with Deepl. The translation of poetry is very complex, therefore, in this case, it is not intended to have literary value, but only to serve as an orientation for reading.]

## circle

### I

I ran,
I stepped on the fallen branches,
I bled with the thorns,
I listened to the sound of my footsteps,
I searched through the thicket,
I left you behind without understanding,
I climbed the carob tree,
I breathed fast and deep,
I looked at you:
a ghost of mud
glowing in the sun

### II

I tried to remember
the word
that brought us here,
I felt my wounds,
I saw the branches break,
I ran my fingers 
through the blood,
each word
is a path,
I shouted

### III

it was strange 
to think, my love, 
that there were 
two jaguars: 
one, made of words 
and the other, 
a longing 
hidden 
in the thicket 
of the forest:
I could not know 
which of the two 
was tearing apart 
your body

### IV

there is 
a precise place 
in the city 
(in any city) 
where the jotes 
fly in circles: 
underneath 
there is nothing, 
neither carrion 
nor fresh meat, 
only the asphalt 
and the cars 
passing by 
at full speed: 
if someone stands 
in the exact center 
of that circle, 
he feels 
nothing special: 
only the distance 
that separates him 
from life.
<br>

---
La [fotografía](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jaguar_Amneville.JPG) es de Emmanuel FAIVRE en Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA.

The [photograph](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jaguar_Amneville.JPG) is by Emmanuel FAIVRE on Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA.
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