Pine coins for the Hackensak forest ranger

Then the verses come like locusts and they eat up the last morsel
A good way to start a poem to a beautiful friend
Throat and rhythms of the diaphragm
something that testifies my love for another friend
and so
with my huge zest for living

Simple things render wheals warts wrinkles and impotence
Not even a catarrh
How willingly I would bestow on any of my friends
One of my best childhood catarrhs
or the sorrowing persistent gift of a midnight stomach-ache
Those devilish solemn occasions
I would like to give them to the loyal friends
The ones that truly hurt and know the fervour of enjoyment
Also a bus
I would like to give them a complete forty-two-seat bus
with seventy people on board speaking maracucho telling each other maracucho things
I would give them a complete bus with seventy people
from my neighbourhood “El 18 de Octubre” to the old market with bell stops jamming brakes and
traffic officers in brown with both their hands
With sun and in August and all
The image of a boy going to school with just one copybook
singing to himself a ranchera song
and adolescence
which adolescence
I was a boy and that’s it
A weepy boy with bad grades
thin, a bit of a jerk
This I wouldn’t give to any friend

To a friend I would give Francisco-César-Francisco my eight-year-old son
the youngest
For him to smile at my friend’s face
For him to come at night and kiss his lips and say as if my friend was a child
Good night father’s friend very good night
I would give him Francisco right now that he looks like the Aleph’s disciple
he holds all the forms of grace and truth
I would send Francisco with a letter in his hands telling him
Take this letter to that man who is my friend and stay with him
When Francisco gets to my friend’s home he will understand
why my son never learnt how to do the math and why there’s always someone
called like him
But it’s so easy to give Francisco that I’d better write my friend about the word
and we are at peace

The thing is I began a poem for my friend Marius three days ago
and the first thing I thought of was to call him usurer
for love
Then I told him he is
a Jew
Then I reminded him of the stroke that kills us in Hackensack
in the end I was tangoing
that I had spoken with him on the phone
and Marius
As usual
had given me another day of grace.

This is a swindle
To a friend one should give Francisco and not jerk around so much.

Hugo Figueroa Brett
An all-life poem for an amazing elephant grazing in the Hackensak woods. (Marius Zsnajderman).

Traducción del poema de Hugo Figueroa Brett: Monedas de Pino para el Guardabosques de Hackensack. Traducido por la Licenciada Carmen Vasco



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