Brightness appears showing us everything
it reveals the splendors it calls everything
but shows it to each of us alone
and only once and only to look at
not to touch or hold in our shadows
what we see is never what we touch
what we take turns out to be something else
what we see that one time departs untouched
while other shadows gather around us
the world’s shadows mingle with our own
we had forgotten them but they know us
they remember us as we always were
they were at home here before the first came
everything will leave us except the shadows
but the shadows carry the whole story
at first daybreak they open their long wings

^{translated from the Spanish by Robin Myers}
 

Someone running with his head aflame as the gods gust in his chest. The wind stirs him everywhere exhaustion’s gone. Others fall like trees. The men plead with the god of mice or the goddess of cow-eyes or the god who fills the sky with bolts. They wait for something to kindle them like embers. Now they burn their hands and their legs run almost by themselves. The heart brims with vitality. It’s the same wildness of the dogs, the heave of the river and sunlight; the donkey’s mettle, the tornado hoisting the waves into the clouds. Its name is ménos, force. The energy that ignites the limbs and heats the blood and propels life all around. An impulse is an extraordinary glimmer, sometimes a blind one. Force can be a vital explosion. It too ignores shatters whoever stands before it. The wind drives the legs uproots the leaves and howls in the water’s ears. The fire illuminates and razes the woods it’s in my thinking now.

[Alguien corriendo con la cabeza en llamas ...]

Alguien corriendo con la cabeza en llamas mientras los dioses soplan en su pecho. El viento lo aviva para todos lados el cansancio se va. Otros caen como árboles. Los hombres piden ayuda al dios de los ratones o la de ojos de vaca o al que llena el cielo de relámpagos. Esperan que algo los encienda como brasas. Ahora queman las manos y las piernas corren casi por su cuenta. El corazón desborda de vitalidad. Es la misma fiereza de los perros, el arrastre del río y el rayo del sol; el temple del burro, el tornado que levanta las olas por las nubes. Su nombre es ménos, fuerza. La energía que enciende los miembros y calienta la sangre y mueve la vida alrededor. El impulso es un brillo extraordinario, a veces ciego. La fuerza puede ser una explosión vital. También ignora hace pedazos al que tiene enfrente. El viento empuja las piernas y arranca las hojas y aúlla en los oídos del agua. El incendio ilumina y arrasa el bosque está en mi pensamiento ahora.

^{translated from the Catalan by AKaiser}

We will sink our feet into other sands,
in the new normal. We will grow plants
between our toes, in the new normal.
 
We will laugh at the distances
and it will be forbidden to not touch us,
in the new normal.
 
Our calendars will seem strange
and we won’t know what the rules are,
in the new normal.
 
There’ll be caves
and space for everyone.
There’ll be lichens
and hunger well-whetted.
 
We’ll embrace all the mysteries,
we’ll be lovers of the invisible
and death, death
will be quite bearable.
 
When winter comes
the mud will come and with the mud
creation unleashed
and we will draw the whole holy day,
in the new normal.
 
We’ll yank flowers from the rocks
and let pigment run
and we’ll paint our faces, also our thighs,
also our sexes and the hot thing, too.
 
We’ll look at the sky more than anything else,
in the new normal.
 
We will breathe very slowly,
in the new normal.
 
And who knows if the gods won’t find us
and we’ll have to create new altars with twigs
and make a roaring fire and roast fish
and dance barefoot until it hurts.
 
Pain not in the feet, but in our bellies,
from so much inconsumable joy.

La nova normalitat

Enfonsarem els peus en una altra sorra,
a la nova normalitat. Ens creixeran plantes
entre els dits, a la nova normalitat.
 
Ens riurem de les distàncies
i estarà prohibit no tocar-nos,
a la nova normalitat.
 
Se’ns faran estranys els calendaris
i no sabrem què són les restriccions,
a la nova normalitat.
 
Hi haurà coves
i espai per a totes.
Hi haurà líquens
i la fam ben oberta.
 
Abraçarem tots els misteris,
estarem amatents a l’invisible
i la mort, la mort
serà ben suportable.
 
Quan vingui l’hivern
vindrà el fang i amb el fang
la creació desfermada
i dibuixarem tot el sant dia,
a la nova normalitat.
 
Picarem les flors damunt les roques
perquè deixin anar el pigment
i ens pintarem les cares, també les cuixes,
també els sexes i allò calent.
 
Mirarem el cel més que cap altra cosa,
a la nova normalitat.
 
Respirarem molt lentament,
a la nova normalitat.
 
I qui sap si els déus no ens troben
i hem de crear nous altars amb branquillons
i fer un bon foc i torrar-hi peixos
i dansar descalços fins que ens faci mal.

Mal no als peus, sinó al ventre,
de tanta alegria que no sabrem com pair.