Translations
El vado
by José WatanabeTranslated from Spanish by Michelle Har Kim
If you walk along the beach where the river shallows
you will see,
stuck in the mud,
long poles of eucalyptus. They are there
for travelers headed to the opposite shore.
One will be your staff:
with it you’ll feel out, without risk, a path
across the turbid waters
and the rocks slick with moss.
Take care to leave the stick firmly planted
with thanks
at the other shore: here comes someone:
maybe my father
looking for wild watermelons in the yellow lands,
perhaps it’s me
who returns, belated and old,
eagerly watching the pueblo that across the river
diffuses or ripples in the vapor of the sun.
There,
following tradition, they sowed my umbilical cord
between two bricks of adobe
so that I might have a country.
Leave the staff plunged into the mud.
