by Melissa Cerrillo
En una habitación oscura, el universo me llamaba
Yo era como un pájaro de atardecer
que bailaba electropop histéricamente
y gritaba por dentro: “¿Cuándo termina esto?”
“¿Por qué no me estrello contra una ventana y ya?”
Tú eras como una lluvia de diamantes
y estabas a 650 millones de kilómetros de mí
pero lo suficientemente cerca como para preguntarme:
“hey, little morra, do you want to see some of my magic?”
Siempre tuviste algo de mago charlatán,
pero alguien tenía que sorprenderse cuando,
estando en una habitación oscura que bien pudo haber sido tuya o mía o el universo entero,
convertías el metano en carbono, y el carbono en grafito, y el grafito en pequeñas piedras brillantes que se fundían en uno de tus mares.
En una habitación oscura (que bien pudo haber sido tuya o mía o nuestra), el universo me llamaba
y tú jugabas con el estado de la materia
y yo bailaba electropop como pájaro suicida
y una radiación electromagnética del principio de los tiempos me decía:
“Mi corazón nunca sentirá, nunca verá, nunca sabrá”.
* * *
In a dark room, the universe was calling me
I was like a sunset bird
who was dancing electropop hysterically
and who was yelling inside: “when is this over?”
“why don’t I crash against a window and that’s it?”
You were like a diamond rain
and you were 650 millions of kilometres away from me
but close enough to ask me:
“hey, little morra, do you want to see some of my magic?”
You always had something of charlatan magician
but someone had to be amazed when,
being in a dark room that could be yours or mine or the entire universe,
you were turning the methane in carbon, and the carbon in graphite, and the graphite in little shining rocks that were melting in one of your seas.
In a dark room (that could be yours or mine or ours), the universe was calling me
and you were playing with the state of matter
and I was dancing like a suicidal bird
and an electromagnetic radiation from the beginning of times was telling me:
“My heart will never feel, will never see, will never know”.