The untitled tumblr

No title, no aims, no sense. Like life. Also/tamén tintacetatoprata.tumblr.com

[ciscandocinza]

Life jacket

Salvavidas…

[tintacetatoprata]

a faísca é poderosa o poder é facil a facilidade é aburrida o aburrimento é excitante a excitación é frustrante a frustración é sabia a sabiduría é inválida a invalidez é creadora a creación é mentireira a mentira son os demais os demais son o inferno o inferno é cálido a calidez es ti ti es ti

___________________________

the spark is powerful

power is easy

ease is boring

boredom is exciting

excitement is frustrating

frustration is wise

wisedom is futile

futility is creative

creation is deceiver

deceive are the others

the others are hell

hell is warm

warmth is you

you are

[saying]

[tintacetatoprata]

e de que me valen estas catro e tantas paredes se as derrubo e tampouco estás  nin estarás nunca   bailando música que entendemos   como naquel tempo e se as paredes permanecen non das saído de aquí  as pantasmas nos recantos interiores do meu cranio as paredes seguirán aí inútiles e ti

___________________________________________________________

what is it worth for me

these four and something walls

if I tear them down

you would be not here

 you’d be never here

 dancing music we don’t understand

 like in that time

and if the walls remain

I can’t keep you out of here

  the ghosts in the inner corners of my skull

the walls will remain

  useless

and you

[saying]

[tintacetatoprata]

Derreados polo continuo movemento

Imparable

Lento, sen pausa

Non acreditamos que un día paramos

Estantíos, mollados no medio do ermo.

Desconcertados

Porque non sabemos vivir doutro xeito.

E sentamos no chan

A buscar un camiño

A facelo nós

_______________________________

Exhausted from the continuous movement

Unstoppable

Slow, without pauses

We don't believe we stop some day

Paralysed, wet in the middle of wasteland

Clueless

Because we don't know how to live in another way

And we sit on the ground

Looking for a path

Or making it ourselves.

[tintacetatoprata]

Levo un caldeiro cheo de treboadas

de tornados de coitelas

de pirañas famentas

de silveiras de arame.

Non podo meter a man

Pesa e doe nos dedos

Guindareino ao río

Se dou chegado.

Podemos entre dous

pero non podo pedircho.

Pero si que me acompañes

e se o acado

que me cures os dedos.

__________________________

I'm carrying a bucket full of storms

Of tornados of blades

Of starving piranhas

Of wire-made thorns.

I can't put the hand inside

It's heavy and my fingers hurt.

I'll throw it in the river

if I reach there.

We can do it both together

but I can't ask you that.

But I can ask you to walk beside me

and if I get it

to heal my fingers.

[tintacetatoprata]

Caerán os vellos reis

E as súas fatuas coroas, decretos,

pazos ergueitos sobre terra roubada.

Os lambecús viraranlles as costas

pero será tarde.

Envolveranse na bandeira,

bágoas nas caras apampadas,

tensión nos tenros dedos

no exilio dourado.

Ninguén os fará de menos.

____________________________

The old kings will fall.

And as well their fatuous crowns, their laws,

their palaces, built on stolen land.

Their bootlickers will turn their back

but it will be too late.

They will wrap themselves with the flag

Tears on their dull faces

Nerves in their tender fingers

In their golden exile.

But nobody's going to miss them.

[tintacetatoprata]

Houbo un tempo de cartas

E de abrir o sobre nervioso

Antes de entrar na casa.

Non dicían nada especial

Pero tralas liñas estaba o importante.

Perdeuse todo

Co último selo que coleccionei.

______________________________

There was a time of letters

And of opening nervously the envelope

Even before arriving at home.

They said nothing special

But between the lines was all that matters.

Everything of this got lost

With the last stamp I collected.

[englishproblems]

[tintacetatoprata]

Se cadra

xa se escribiron todos

os bos versos

Polo menos os meus

e nada paga a pena.

Pero ninguén nos avisou

e seguimos.

______________________

Maybe

every good verse

is already written

At least the verses of my own

And nothing is worth.

But nobody told us

so we go on.

[tintacetatoprata]

Ás veces descender

é un xeito elegante

de caer

de aceptar o inevitábel

de resistencia covarde

de saber estar

no baleiro do precipicio

_____________________________

Sometimes descending

is an elegant way

of falling down

of accepting the unavoidable

of coward resistance

of how-to-be

in the emptiness of the precipice.

[2000-lightyearsfromhome]

Walker Evans

[tintacetatoprata]

tampouco sei por que perdo o control ao verte e férvenme as mareas e avergónzome da miña reacción dos meus tatexos da miña erección    por toda a pel pero dimo, cando por fin quedemos sós e perderei o control para cedercho a ti

___________________________________—

I don’t know either

why I lose my control when I see you

and tides boil inside me

and I feel shame of my reactions

of my stuttering

of my erection

    on all my skin

but tell me,

when we are at last alone

and I will lose my control

to give it to you

[coltre]

I’ve been writing about us lately

[tintacetatoprata]

lembro os tempos en que non falarte queimaba por dentro e cando me falabas as lapas aloumiñaban as miñas fazulas e perdíamonos nesa calor nese incendio ocultándonos dos bombeiros

_____________________________________________

I recall the times

where not talking to you burnt inside

and when you talked to me

the flames caressed my cheeks

and we lost ourselves into that warmth

into that fire

hiding us from the firemen

[tintacetatoprata]

o verán rematará, coma sempre e os pés fríos estrañarán a area quente, a herba descalza e a verbena abrazaremos a chuvia e o gris e farémolo de menos

pero en realidade o que facemos de menos son os veráns da infancia longos, eternos, nos coches de choque e aventuras sen pais. Non volverán xamáis e iso é terríbel.

___________________________________

the summer will end, as always

and the cold feet will miss

the warm sand, the barefoot grass and the village celebrations

we will hug the rain and grey

and we’ll miss it

but what we are really missing

are our childhood summers

long, eternal,

on the bumper cars and parentless adventures.

They will never be back

ever

and that’s terrible.