Fracaso / Rafael Cadenas


What I’ve taken for victory is only smoke.

Failure, language of depths, clue toward another more demanding
     space, your handwriting is hard to decipher.

When you placed your mark on my forehead I never thought of the
     message you brought, more precious than all the
Your burning profile has followed me and I didn’t know that it was
     meant to save me.
For my benefit you’ve relegated me to the corners, you denied me
     easy success, you’ve denied me exits.
It was me you wanted to defend not granting me splendor.
Out of pure love for me you’ve handled this emptiness that on so many
     nights has made me speak feverishly to an absent girl.
To protect me you let others pass,you’ve made it so that a woman prefer
     someone more resolute, you displaced me from suicidal tasks.

You’ve always come to my aid.

Yes, your wounded, spit-upon, odious body has received me
     in its purest form to hand me over to the
     clarity of the desert.
Because of my madness I cursed you, I’ve mistreated you, I blasphemed
     against you.

You don’t exist.
You’ve been invented by delirious pride.

I owe you so much!
You lifted me to a new level, cleaning me with a rough sponge,
     sthrowing me into my true battlefield, granting
     me the weapons triumph leaves behind.
You’ve led me by the hand to the only water that reflects me.
Because of you I don’t know the anguish of playing a role, keeping
     myself on a rung by force, climbing by my own efforts, fighting
     for hierarchies, swelling until I burst.
You’ve made me humble, silent and rebellious.
I don’t sing for you because of what you are, but because of what
     you’ve denied me. For not giving me another life. For having
     limited me.

You’ve given me only nakedness.
It’s true you taught me harshly, and you yourself were cautious!
     but you also gave me the happiness of not fearing you.
Thank you for removing density in return for a thicker handwriting.

Thanks to you who have denied my conceits.
Thank you for the wealth to which you’ve obliged me.
Thank you for building my dwelling with clay.
Thank you for separating me.
Thank you.

Falsas maniobras (1966)

{ Rafael Cadenas, Antología, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 1996 }

No comments: