Un ejercicio poético inspirado en fotos tomadas en mi reciente viaje al pueblo de Manicuare (Península de Araya, Estado Sucre, Venezuela).
A poetic exercise inspired by photos taken on my recent trip to the village of Manicuare (Araya Peninsula, Sucre State, Venezuela).
Los barcos no se reconocen,
encallados, sobre la arena
solitaria, solitarios, abandonados
al viento callado, al sol cenital.
Sus cuadernas son costillar
como de rocinante marino,
arboladura de olvido,
antes aventura y feraz cardumen.
No pierden la esperanza
de poder volver a zarpar
aún con sus maderas crujientes
bandear el proceloso azul.
The boats are not known to each other,
stranded, on the sand
solitary, lonely, abandoned
to the silent wind, to the zenithal sun.
Their frames are ribs
as of a marine rocinant,
rigging of oblivion,
once adventurous and fertile shoal.
They do not lose hope
of being able to set sail again
even with their creaking timbers
to sail through the blue sea.
