Cicatriz / Scar

Mario Lasalandra- Scarecrow, 1968Mario Lasalandra: Espantapájaros (1968)

Luis Seoane

(Buenos Aires, 1910 – A Coruña, 1979)

 

THE PAST

Those who want the oblivion,
drown the memories,
they might forget us aswell.
Neither they remember our name,
this or that,
any old anecdote,
a memory of friendship,
the common cry of the past.
Throw they our name
to the cramped cave of the dead
they want to forget.
Throw they our surname
syllabe by syllabe,
letter by letter,
behind the fence of the common grave.
Might they throw into those ashes
the flag that one day we raised together,
the panthom of those dead
that been forgotten are killed again.
Anyway,
even so,
they couldn’t either forget this second death.
Someone, fearless,
carefully to honour the dead,
we don’t know who,
most surely not born yet,
will remember.
He will inherit into his blood the memory
and will offer
in the petos* of the souls
a new love to freedom.
We will awake** forever,
even from the grave,
in the tomb,
with Santa Compaña*** through the paths,
after so many times dead.

Scars (1959)

_______

*Tradicionally, in Galician culture “petos” are a little kind of boxes that held money for the souls. These boxes were usually put by the feet of religious sculptures and inside cruceiros. Cruceiros are constructions made by stone that have a cross on the top to honor Christ. We can still see them along Galician geography, specially in small villages where the cult of the dead is very rooted.

**In Galician the verb “acordar” has two main meanings: one is related to being awake and the other is related to remember. In this poem there is a play with the two meanings.

***In Galician tradiction, “Santa Compaña” is a legendary group of souls that wander eternally looking for new souls. It is believed that those who see Santa Compaña are watching their own death.

*

O PASADO

Quenes quer o esquecemento,
afogar os recordos,
que tamén nos esquezan.
Tampouco acorden o noso nome,
esto ou aquelo,
una anédota calquera,
a lembranza da amistade,
o berro común do pasado.
Guinden noso nome
á preta cova dos mortos
que eles queren olvidar.
Boten noso apelido
sílaba a sílaba,
letra por letra,
tras a cerca do caveiro común.
Alancen entre isas cinzas
a bandeira que un día erguemos xuntos,
as pantasmas de aqueles mortos
que esquecéndoos voltan a matar.
De calquer xeito,
aínda así,
tampouco podrán esquecer esta segunda morte.
Alguén, sen arrepiarse,
coidadoso de honrar ós mortos,
non sabemos quen,
con seguranza aínda non nacido,
fará memoria.
Herdará no seu sangue o recordo
e oferecerá
nos petos das ánimas
un novo amor á libertade.
Nós acordaremos sempre,
aínda dende a fosa,
no caveiro,
en Santa Compaña pol-os camiños,
despois de moitas vegadas mortos.

As Cicatrices (1959)

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