Friday, February 17, 2012

César Vallejo, "De Todo Esto Yo Soy El Unico Que Parte," trans. Nan Braymer and Lillian Lowenfels

I am the only one who’s leaving everything behind:
I am going away from this bench,
away from my underwear,
away from the general set-up, from my actions,
from my house number shattered into pieces—
away from everything, and I’m the only one who’s leaving.
Going away from the Champs Elysees
to take a turn in a strange alley on the moon.
My own death is going, too; my bed is taking leave;
and, surrounded by people, solitary, free,
my human double goes for a walk
and gets rid of its ghosts one by one.
I can withdraw from everything
because everything remains behind to give me an alibi:
my shoe, its buttonholes, also its mud,
right up to the crease in the arm of my clean buttoned shirt.

1 comment:

  1. Deleuze and Guattari: "making love is not just becoming as one, or even two, but becoming as a hundred thousand... we always make love with worlds."