Domingo 3 and/or Sunday 3

A few of the poems from my book “Entre domingo y domingo” were published last month in “Jai-Alai Magazine.” Since “Jai Alai” is a multi-lingual literary review based in Miami, they were interested in publishing the poems in both English and Spanish. It was the first time I translated my own work and thoroughly enjoyed the (challenging) experience. Thanks, “Jai Alai”!

Below is “Sunday 3,” translated from its original form in Spanish, which is also included below.

 

Sunday 3 (in 3 parts)

 

In small cities

the value of the theft

ceases to matter:

 

1.

 

9:56 a.m.

 

I sit up and consider

that I feel well.

Not last night’s call,

nor today’s

matter;

I am going for a run.

 

10:02 a.m.

 

It cannot matter;

I feel good.

I plan to go for a run.

 

10:16 a.m.

 

Almost.

 

2.

 

11:30 a.m.

 

On seventh and eighty second,

two sons of bitches

steal my phone.

A man

with a perfect Labrador

chases behind.

 

11:32 a.m.

 

I keep running—

now

in silence.

 

11:43 a.m.

 

I allow myself to be overcharged

for three ripe avocados

that I plan

to take to my grandmother.

 

11:55 a.m.

 

I buy tampons,

give away the change.

 

12:03 p.m.

 

I get home with one key,

three avocados,

a box of tampons,

and a pair of headphones

that will have to be given

away.

 

12:36 p.m.

 

Bathed,

I consider

my theft

as overcome.

 

3.

 

8:35 p.m.

 

You call and we’ve become complicated.

You call late,

one entire day.

 

 

8:36 p.m.

 

I tell you about the theft

so you will love me.

 

8:35 p.m.

 

More.

 

 

——

 

 

Domingo 3 (en 3 partes)

 

En ciudades pequeñas

deja de importar

el valor del robo:

 

 

9:56 a. m.

 

Me siento y pienso

que me siento bien.

Ni la llamada de anoche,

ni la de hoy

importan;

voy a salir a trotar.

 

10:02 a. m.

 

No puede importar;

me siento bien.

Pienso salir a trotar.

 

10:16 a. m.

 

Ya casi.

 

 

11:30 a. m.

 

En la séptima con ochenta y dos,

dos hijos de puta

me roban el celular.

Un señor

con un Labrador perfecto

corre detrás.

 

11:32 a. m.

 

Yo sigo trotando—

ahora

en silencio.

 

11:43 a. m.

 

Me dejo cobrar demasiado

por tres aguacates maduros

que le pienso

llevar a mi abuela.

 

11:55 a. m.

 

Compro tampones,

regalo las vueltas.

 

12:03 p. m.

 

Llego a mi casa con una llave,

tres aguacates,

una caja de tampones,

y un par de audífonos

que tocará

regalar.

 

12:36 p. m.

 

Ya bañada

considero

que mi robo

está superado.

 

3.

 

8:35 p. m.

 

Llamas y nos hemos complicado.

Llamas tarde,

un día entero.

 

8:36 p. m.

 

Te cuento del robo

para que me quieras.

 

8:35 p. m.

 

Más.