sábado, 2 de enero de 2016

Desayuno sin los niños

Desayuno sin los niños

Ya no quedan niños,
y la vieja casa grande
se ha hecho aún más grande,
                   inmensa.
Un silencio se pasea
triste por los altos techos
sabiendo que no será
interrumpido por griteríos,
llantos y risas.

Ya no quedan niños,
y con ellos se han ido
los discursos atropellados,
y el asombro
por las cosas cotidianas:
por un palo con
forma de serpiente,
por una lagartija,
por un escarabajo
o por una vieja encina caída.

Ya no quedan niños,
ni uno,
ni un solo moflete suave,
ni un solo rizo despeinado,
ni una sola mirada despierta
entre curiosa y tímida,
ni una sola sonrisa conteniendo
toda la inocencia perdida,
ni un ceceo,
ni una sola vocecilla
con timbre de pájaro.

Ya no quedan niños,
y su ausencia deja un vacío
que pesa sobre la vieja casa,
oprimiendo el pecho,
quitándole brillo a la luz.

Ellos no lo saben
pero los niños son
la chispa que enciende
la llama de la vida,
un infinito de posibilidades
aún por definirse,
la eterna esperanza
de un mañana mejor.


A.M.B.
Enero de 2016

martes, 22 de diciembre de 2015

Saudade




Saudade

Cuando tú no estás tampoco estoy yo.
Sigo teniendo dos pies, dos piernas,
dos brazos, dos manos, dos ojos,
Sigue mi nariz, mi boca, mi torso.
Mi corazón todavía late mecánicamente,
pero tras descender del sueño
recobrando la consciencia
no se acelera al encontrarte a su lado.
Sin embargo, una parte de mi alma,
la que vive entrelazada a la tuya,
se ha ido.
Anda deambulando confundida
a merced del viento,
incansable,  inquieta,
esperando encontrarte
a la vuelta de cada esquina;
desolada al no hacerlo.
Al irse, deja un incómodo vacío
imposible de llenar sin tu
cálida, callada y cariñosa presencia.
Y es que el alma,
esencia misteriosa que nos define
desde la verdad inmaterial,
no siempre va de la mano del cuerpo.


A.M.B.

Diciembre de 2015

lunes, 21 de diciembre de 2015

La hora extraÑa

La hora extraÑa

Esa hora extraña a mitad de la noche
cuando aún queda lejos la mañana
y la casa está preñada de ignotos
ruidos huraños, desapacibles,
aliñados con oscuro misterio.
Dejan de tejer sus telas las arañas
las cucarachas olvidan la carroña
los ratones cesan sus artimañas.
Y hasta el sueño ñampeado,
apuñalado por su dueño
añora el aledaño apuñándose
empeñado en reñir con su maraña.



A.M.B.
Diciembre de 2015


domingo, 20 de diciembre de 2015

Nona and Orson


Drawing by Sophie Mason


Nona and Orson


Have you ever heard the amazing story of Nona and Orson the owl who lived in her belly button? Yes, you heard right, in her belly button! Well, listen carefully, for I am about to tell you.

Nona was a happy and fortunate child. She grew up with her parents, who loved her dearly, in a beautiful cottage in the forest.
In the cold winter, when she walked back from school, holding her mother´s hand and saw the chimney puffing out smoke, she would imagine the chestnuts they would later roast in the fire place. They gathered them from the garden, where an old and generous chestnut tree lived. She loved his leaves which looked like big heavy hands.
In the summer time the ivy that dressed the house would get heavy with leaves, and it reminded her of her father’s beard. During the never-ending evenings she would spend as much time as she could outside, chasing grasshoppers. When she caught one, she would open her hand and watch them spring far away across the garden.
She was very brave and unafraid of the forest, which she explored behind her parents backs. They were scared that she would get lost and had forbidden her from doing so. She wasn’t afraid of cockroaches or lizards. One time she encountered a fox and they eyed each other curiously for a long time; she felt no fear.
She was scared of only one thing: darkness. As soon as it began to get dark she would run back to the warm light of her home.
One afternoon she saw a hummingbird who, with his long beak between some flower petals, was feasting on nectar. She was fascinated with how small he was, how fast he moved his wings and by his colorful coat. The humming bird went into the forest and Nona followed him as he flew from branch to branch. She went deeper into the forest than she ever had before. It began to get dark and she was lost.
As the forest grew darker, Nona’s fear grew too. The trees, which she normally so loved, turned into enormous giants. The bushes into sharp-toothed monsters. She heard an owl hoot and she was sure it was a ghost. Then she saw two big eyes flying towards her. She was very frightened. She covered her eyes with her hands.
-Hello little girl, I am Orson the owl. What’s your name?
She opened her eyes and through her fingers she saw a beautiful owl. Even in the darkness she could see his feathers, which looked like tree bark. His eyes were huge and yellow, with big, deep, black pupils. His eyebrows shot up to the sky, just like her maths teacher´s did.
-My name is Nona- she answered- I’m very afraid of the dark.
-How silly! –said Orson- that’s just because you can’t see. I love the dark. In fact, I much prefer nights to days. There’s too much light during the day, but at night I can see without being seen. Tell me, Nona, what are you afraid of?
Nona started telling Orson about all the shadows she was afraid of. Every time she named one, the owl would describe precisely what was there, and then Nona would feel better. When she felt better, Orson stood on her shoulder and guided her out of the forest. Along the way they chatted and chatted. They became very good friends, so much so that they felt very sad when they had to say goodbye. So Nona asked him to hide in her dress, so that her parents wouldn’t see him. That way he could stay with her in her bedroom until she fell asleep and she wouldn’t be scared when the lights went out.
As he was hiding in her dress he came across her belly button. “What a funny little thing¨! Orson thought. Curious, he stuck his beak inside, then his head, and then his whole body. He was fully inside Nona’s belly button! And what a cozy place it was! Nona felt filled with security.
From that night on, Orson spent all his days inside Nona’s belly button. At night he would come out and talk to her until she fell asleep, describing what all the shadows she was scared of were. When she was sound asleep he would fly out of the window and go hunting in the forest. At dawn he would fly back to her bed, wake her up, and tell her of all the adventures he had had. Then in he would go, back to her belly button to sleep all day.
No one ever knew. It was their best kept secret. Once, in gymnastics, as they were learning to do summersaults, Orson’s head popped out. He opened his sleepy eyes and looked very confused. Thankfully nobody saw him.
Orson had to suffer the daylight no more, and no more was Nona scared of the darkness. They were very happy together and their friendship lasted for many, many years.

A.M.B.
December 2015


martes, 15 de diciembre de 2015

Allende el camino



Allende el camino

Largo y generoso serpentea
por los valles de la vida
el agradecido camino.
Bajo lluvia, caluroso sol y frío
anda con desgastadas suelas
un mismo viejo peregrino.
Hombre de rostro milenario,
mismo paso, diferente mirada:
el indio, el inglés, el beduino.
Y el tiempo mueve las aspas
prensando nuestro saber
en la almazara del molino.
¿Qué se esconde más allá,
tras el cerro, tras la loma,
tras el horizonte marino?



A.M.B.
Diciembre de 2015


lunes, 14 de diciembre de 2015

Odi the seed

To my goddaughter Pía, whom I love dearly


Ilustration by Sophie Mason


Odi the seed

Odi was a dandelion seed. She was born in a green field high in the mountains, amongst red poppies and violets. Even though it was cold, she always felt warm, for she spent every day and night curled up with her sisters. Together they formed a warm cotton jumper in the shape of a ball.
She was very happy. She adored her sisters and got on very well with the other inhabitants of the field: with Molly the poppy, Sally the violet, Vince the bumblebee, Lola the dragon fly, Victor the beetle…
Suddenly one night, the wind began to blow ferociously. It sounded like the howling of a wolf under the full moon. It blew, and it blew, stronger and stronger. One by one it took away all of Odi’s sisters until she was left alone. She felt very scared and held onto her mother with all her strength. But the Wind is much more powerful than a tiny little seed, and in the end he snatched her away.
She was very cold and frightened. Until then she had only moved gently, swaying in the soft afternoon breeze, holding onto her sisters. Now she floated weightlessly alone out into the dark.
After the long night, finally the light arrived, painting a beautiful landscape which Odi had never known before. First in grey tones, but then, as the sun showed his smiling golden face in the east, the landscape was flooded with a thousand colours. Our little friend was fascinated; what she saw was so stunning that she forgot to be scared.
She remembered Robin, a friendly and colourful bird who had once rested next to her back in the field. Odi, surprised by that new exciting creature, asked him where he came from.
-From the sky- Robin tweeted.
-But only the sun, the stars, and the moon live in the sky- answered Odi.
-And also the birds, for we were given wings to fly- sang Robin happily.
Then Odi realized that like Robin, she was flying too, and she didn’t even have wings! She didn’t feel alone any more, nor did she feel unprotected or defenseless. She definitely didn’t feel scared, she felt free. This new found feeling made her very happy, happier than she had ever been.
She flew high into the sky, over valleys and mountains, rivers and lakes, deep canyons and soft rolling hills. She saw mountain goats with curvy horns hanging from the naked rocks, galloping horses in green fields, peaceful grazing cows, bleating sheep following their shepherd; foxes, cats, chickens, mice; eagles drawing wide circles flying even higher than her… She also saw all kinds of trees: sharp poplars, magnificent lonely oaks, generous chestnuts, pine trees sewing the air with their needles, naked cork trees, twisted old olive trees, round holm oaks…
One day she reached the sea, and she was astonished by its deep blue colour. It was immense! Much bigger than anything she had ever seen before. It sang, and its voice was similar to that of the wind, but deeper. Its movement reminded her when she used to sway in the breeze, curled up with her sisters, in the green mountain field. For the first time she felt sad, because she missed them. She also felt tired.
The wind, who had grown fond of her after sharing such a long journey, sensed her sadness and said to her in his hissing voice that sounded like a whisper:
-It’sssss tiiime toooo ssseparate ssso long my ffffffriend.
Then he stopped blowing and Odi began to descend. She fell and she fell, until she landed softly on the ground on a green island beyond the sea. Sad and lonely Odi fell asleep, and the earth, always so hungry, swallowed her.
She slept for a long time, and when she finally awoke, she found herself buried in the darkness. She felt scared. She was trapped. But then she remembered that long night in which her journey began, and how when the sun came up, with his smiling golden face, the darkness went away. So our brave little friend started to push against the darkness that covered her to head back to the light. And she pushed, and she pushed, and she pushed…
So much did she push that in the end she sprouted, and her head popped out above the ground. She again felt the warm sunlight in her face and again she breathed the fresh air.
What Odi didn’t know is that she was no longer a seed; she had turned into a beautiful yellow flower.



A.M.B.
October 2015

sábado, 12 de diciembre de 2015

Segundo Movimiento de la séptima




Segundo Movimiento de la séptima

Toda la fuerza del universo
contenida en cada nota,
viento y cuerda enfrentados,
Dionisio desafiando a Apolo,
pasión y razón batallando
en alegreto que cabalga
con paso firme y decidido.
Tan solo él sale victorioso
de la milenaria lucha,
lidiando entrambos con furia
expresada en violenta belleza,
en sublime éxtasis
de todo su genio creador.
El ser humano divinizado,
implosión que se expande
con eco en la eternidad,
siglos de arte condensados
en una sola bestia feroz:
Ludwig van Beethoven.



A.M.B.
Diciembre de 2015