Illnesses

by Juan Gelman (Argentina)
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen and Victor Rodriguez Núnez

like two young ladies sitting down on the fever’s edge
the fever leans to one side and to the other side and breaks or
rises
enlarges the head or throbs
against the head enlarging it

is that why it looks to me like everything is flying?
why the president gentlemen passengers neighbors are flying?
the plumber from across the street flying with his shirt filled with
gas?
the sullen next door citizen flying?

and where are they going with those flights?
what part of themselves do they manage to reach when they fly
this two–young–ladies night?
or are they getting nowhere?

the day is sad or gray with the plumber riding his bicycle
loaded down with tools on the back of it
silvery under the hot ray of sunlight
he too silvery under the sun

flying tonight could he have gotten nowhere?
flying tonight could he have gotten to an unknown part of
himself
awake now for the first time beautiful like an island
though covered in blood and exertion or in pain from the work of
being born?

the work of being born to this world?
why born to this world and not another?
to this world and not to any other?
to this world of lonesome wonders under the sun?

like the plumber from across the street riding his bicycle?
loaded down with tools on the back of it?
silvery under the hot ray of sunlight?
he too silvery under the sun?

like two young ladies sitting on the night?
like two or many sadnesses flying but getting nowhere?
no beautiful island?
no island awake now for the first time?