REFRÁN JAPONÉS

沈黙は金、雄弁は銀

“ちんもくはきん、ゆうべんはぎん”

“El silencio es oro, la palabra es plata”.

POEMS OF A PENISIST Takahashi Matsuo

From Poems of a Penisist

Sleeping Wrestler

You are a murderer

No you are not, but really a wrestler

Either way it's just the same

For from the ring of your entangled body

Clean as leather, lustful as a lily

Will nail me down

On your stout neck like a column, like a pillar of tendons

The thoughtful forehead

(In fact, it's thinking nothing)

When the forehead slowly moves and closes the heavy eyelids

Inside, a dark forest awakens

A forest of red parrots

Seven almonds and grape leaves

At the end of the forest a vine

Covers the house where two boys

Lie in each others arms: I'm one of them, you the other

In the house, melancholy and terrible anxiety

Outside the keyhole, a sunset

Dyed with the blood of the beautiful bullfighter Escamillo

Scorched by the sunset, headlong, headfirst

Falling, falling, a gymnast

If you're going to open your eyes, nows the time, wrestler

The God Statue I Love

Your body is made of lily and sex

Piles of strong-smelling, night-illuminating lilies

Upon them your pageboy has spread the ointment of nard

For the lower half of your body you wear a bullfighter's tight

costume

The elegant joints of your big fingers press on the brocaded

arabesques

Beneath the costume, between the two overpowering thighs

Wrapped in highly fragrant clouds

Sleeps a beautiful lion cub, I think

The gentle beast is made of particularly splendid lilies

The suspenders press into your dark chest

The night sky framed by the lions silky hair

Hooked to the chain of stars a medal shines like the moon

One arm, gathering the flow of muscles, like a river

Leisurely hangs towards the center of the earth

The hand grips a whip

The leather lash of the whip snake-coils on the ground

You will suddenly jerk it up and imprint a swift welt on the

air

From the wound brilliant blood will spurt

I will put your standing figure

On the horse's fluffed buttocks, in the shining sky at dawn

On your shoulders

I shall put the wrestler's head as thoughtful as a forest

(I clipped it from the pictures in a sports magazine)

In the name of

Man, member,

And the holy fluid

Amen

Estudio sobre las malas hierbas TAKAHASHI MATSUO

Estudio sobre las malas hierbas

"En el mundo de las malas hierbas,

es constante la lucha por la supervivencia.

Concretamente, parece haber plantas

que segregan sustancias nocivas

para las otras plantas":

Tu, cuando eras alumno de la Escuela Secundaria y decías esto

en tu trabajo, en papel mimeografiado barato,

aún no sabías nada del alma de las plantas,

del alma de las plantas que se desprendía de sus cuerpos

espirituales.

No sabías nada sobre las sustancias del alma.

"Este no soy yo.

Fue mi alma quien mató a mi hermano.

Por eso os ruego que no me castiguéis a mí

sino a mi alma. Yo

no soy culpable".

Así se defiende el criminal.

Si dice que el alma del ser humano existe,

ligeramente desplazada fuera del hombre como imagen real,

ligeramente desplazada fuera de la planta de la vara de oro,
existe el alma de la planta de la vara de oro

El acto de la planta de la vara de oro,

sin embargo, no puede dejar de ejercer una influencia decisiva

en la planta de la vara de oro misma.

El acto del alma del criminal que ha matado a su hermano

pone a este hombre mismo de pie ante la horca.

Tú, que saliste al mundo del hombre apartando

una mata de la planta de la vara de oro que se balaceaba

ligeramente desplazada del alma de la planta dela vara de oro,

debías de tener, tú también, un alma que se balanceaba

ligeramente desplazada.

¿Fuiste tú o tu alma quién escribió,

en el trabajo, lo siguiente?

"En el lugar donde el año pasado

abundaba la planta de la vara de oro,

este año vemos que su número ha decrecido considerablemente.

Las sustancias nocivas para las otras plantas

quizás la destruya a ella también".

Traducción de Shigeko Suzuki, Junichi Matsuura y Lourdes Porta.

como un niño llamando

 al mundo entero gimiendo

agarrado a llantos como papeles arrugados

y miradas de postoperatorio

 puedo nacer

ahora puedo nacer

y volver a nacer

Why don't you ask me

How long I've been waiting

Set down on the road

With the gunshots exploding

I'm waiting for you

In the gloom and the blazing

I'm waiting for you

I sing like a slave I know

I should know better

I've learned all my lessons

Right down to the letter

And still I go on like this

Year after year

Waiting for miracles

And shaking with fear

Why don't you answer

Why don't you come save me

Show me how to use

All these things

That you gave me

Turn me inside out

So my bones can save me

Turn me inside out

You've come this close

You can come even closer

The gunshots get louder

And the world spins faster

And things just get further

And further apart

The head from the hands

And the hands from the heart

One thing that's true

Is the way that I love him

The earth down below

And the sky up above him

And still I go on like this

Day after day

Still I go on like this

Now I've said this

I already feel stronger

I can't keep waiting for you

Any longer

I need you now

Not someday

When I'm ready

Come down on the road

Come down on the road

My name, my nam

Nothing is the same

I won't go back

The way I came

HIROAKI UMEDA

Hiroaki Umeda is a pluridisciplinary artist : choreographer, dancer, sound, image and lighting designer. His work is both minimal and radical, subtle and violent, and is created to be "experienced". He is now recognized more as a visual artist rather than a choreographer, a mover rather than a dancer.