RAYMOND CARVER (1938 – 1988)
LA FELICIDAD
Es tan temprano que casi es noche fuera.
Estoy cerca de la ventana con un café
y las cosas que al amanecer
pasan por pensamientos.
Cuando veo al muchacho y su amigo
que van camino arriba
repartiendo el periódico.
Llevan gorras y suéteres
y uno de ellos carga un macuto al hombro.
Son tan felices
que no se dicen nada, estos muchachos.
Creo que si pudieran
se cogerían del brazo.
Es temprano en la mañana
y hacen juntos esta labor.
Vienen despacio.
El cielo se está iluminando
aunque la luna todavía cuelga pálida sobre
el agua.
el agua.
Tanta belleza que por un minuto
la muerte y la ambición, incluso el amor,
no tienen cabida en esto.
La felicidad. Viene
de repente. Y realmente va más allá
de cualquier charla sobre ella en la mañana
temprano.
temprano.
So
early it’s still almost dark out.
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.
early it’s still almost dark out.
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.
Dos cosas: 1.- Siento haber preocupado a los que me quieren. Uno de ellos me ha regañado en privado y cuando le he dicho que es cosa de la melancolia me ha respondo: “La madre que te trajo, Hilario. Nos habias asustado”, Así que no sé que decir.