2.10.11

Muriel Rukeyser - St. Roach



St. Roach

Como nunca te conocí, sólo aprendí a temerte,
como nunca te toqué, me dijeron que eras sucio,
con cada acción me enseñaron a despreciar tu especie;
como vi a mi pueblo haciéndote la guerra,
no pude apartarte, verte por separado,
porque en mi infancia viví en lugares donde no estabas,
porque toda la gente que conocí te conoció
aplastándote, pateándote hasta la muerte, te volcaron agua hirviendo, te tiraron a las cloacas,
y yo no podía distinguir uno de otro,
apenas que eras negro, rápido corriendo y delgado. No como yo.
Como no conocí ninguno de tus poemas
y ninguno de tus dichos
y como no puedo ni hablar ni leer tu lengua
ni cantar tus canciones
y como no le enseño a nuestros chicos
            a comer tu comida
            o conocer tus poemas
            o cantar tus canciones
sólo les decimos que estás ensuciando nuestra comida
y que no te conocemos en absoluto.

Ayer vi a uno de ustedes por primera vez.
Tenías un color más claro que los otros, eso no era ni bueno ni malo.
Yo estaba mirando de verdad por primera vez.
Parecías preocupado e ingenioso.

Hoy toqué a uno de ustedes por primera vez.
Te sobresaltaste, corriste, huiste
rápido como un bailarín, ligero, extraño y amoroso al tacto.
Me estiro, toco, empiezo a conocerte.





Versión de Tom Maver

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ST. ROACH

For that I never knew you, I only learned to dread you,
for that I never touched you, they told me you are filth,
they showed me by every action to despise your kind;
for that I saw my people making war on you,
I could not tell you apart, one from another,
for that in childhood I lived in places clear of you,
for that all the people I knew met you by
crushing you, stamping you to death, they poured boiling
   water on you, they flushed you down,
for that I could not tell one from another
only that you were dark, fast on your feet, and slender.
   Not like me.
For that I did not know your poems
And that I do not know any of your sayings
And that I cannot speak or read your language
And that I do not sing your songs
And that I do not teach our children
          to eat your food
          or know your poems
          or sing your songs
But that we say you are filthing our food
But that we know you not at all.

Yesterday I looked at one of you for the first time.
You were lighter than the others in color, that was
     neither good nor bad.

I was really looking for the first time.
You seemed troubled and witty.

Today I touched one of you for the first time.
You were startled, you ran, you fled away
Fast as a dancer, light, strange and lovely to the touch.
I reach, I touch, I begin to know you.




from The Collected Poems of Muriel Rukeyser. McGraw-Hill Book Company, New York, 1978.


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