Paz
Y a veces estoy
triste cuando el pasto
crece en silenciosos huecos sobre las piedras
y el pasto ovillo se inclina a través del bacheado camino de carretas
por no ser la voz
de mis compatriotas
quienes ahora se
paran sobre un promontorio a hablar
sobre los nabos, papas, o el incipiente maíz
de territorios de
laderas rayadas por la victoria.
Aquí la paz está
aún ofertando
sus peines
coloridos y bufandas y cuentas de asta.
Sobre un
promontorio junto a un seto de boj
una liebre se
sienta y vislumbra un surco rastrillado
hay un viejo arado
dado vuelta sobre un promontorio lleno de malezas
y alguien está
cargando al hombro una pequeña grada a casa.
De aquel país de la
niñez ¿qué tontos suben
para pelear con los
tiranos Amor y Vida y Tiempo?
Fuente: Collected Poems by Patrick Kavanagh (c) 1974, Norton publisher Writers And Poets.
Peace
And sometimes I am sorry when the grass
Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows
And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass
That I am not the voice of country fellows
Who now are standing by some headland talking
Of turnips and potatoes or young corn
Of turf banks stripped for victory.
Here Peace is still hawking
His coloured combs and scarves and beads of horn.
Upon a headland by a whinny hedge
A hare sits looking down a leaf-lapped furrow
There's an old plough upside-down on a weedy ridge
And someone is shouldering home a saddle-harrow.
Out of that childhood country what fools climb
To fight with tyrants Love and Life and Time?
Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows
And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass
That I am not the voice of country fellows
Who now are standing by some headland talking
Of turnips and potatoes or young corn
Of turf banks stripped for victory.
Here Peace is still hawking
His coloured combs and scarves and beads of horn.
Upon a headland by a whinny hedge
A hare sits looking down a leaf-lapped furrow
There's an old plough upside-down on a weedy ridge
And someone is shouldering home a saddle-harrow.
Out of that childhood country what fools climb
To fight with tyrants Love and Life and Time?
