Monday, September 21, 2009

HANDS OF WORKERS (Rafael Menéndez)

MANOS DE OBREROS
Libros que se abren y se cierran
Con tantas historias por contar
Que a nadie le interesa leerlas
Aunque se prestan tanto para saludar.

Books opened and closed
with so many stories to tell
nobody is interested to read
eventhough they are so willing to greet.

Selvas, estériles y desiertas,
Cementerios de tantas ilusiones
Sueños que ahora los despiertas
Con tus majestuosas creaciones.

Tropical rainforests, barren and deserted
cemeteries of so much illusion
dreams that now are woken up
with your majestic creations.

Rasgos de los causes de sudor,
Arrugas enhebradas en tu tiempo
Estampas memorables del dolor
“cicatrices” como huellas del sufrimiento.

Traces of sweat flows
wrinkles needled in your time
memorable illustrations of pain
"scars" as paths of suffering.

Manos sórdidas y devaluadas
Cubiertas con un manto de ruego
Seno de las esperanzas albergadas
Esperanzas que ¡tenemos como obreros!

Squalid and unvalued hands
covered by a begging blanket
heart of sheltered hopes
hopes we embrace as workers!


Translated by Marisol
(still being revised)


Labels:

1 Comments:

Blogger Nelly said...

I almost cried with this poem, because this is my salvadorean people. People who know a lot about life, but anybaody wants to talk with.

October 3, 2009 at 10:44 AM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home