The Future by Julio Cortazar

THE FUTURE

And I know full well you won’t be there.
You won’t be in the street, in the hum that buzzes
from the arc lamps at night, nor in the gesture
of selecting from the menu, nor in the smile
that lightens people packed into the subway,
nor in the borrowed books, nor in the see-you-tomorrow.You won’t be in my dreams,
in my words’ first destination,
nor will you be in a telephone number
or in the color of a pair of gloves or a blouse.
I’ll get angry, love, without it being on account of you,
and I’ll buy chocolates but not for you,
I’ll stop at the corner you’ll never come to,
and I’ll say the words that are said
and I’ll eat the things that are eaten
and I’ll dream the dreams that are dreamed
and I know full well you won’t be there,
nor here inside, in the prison where I still hold you,
nor there outside, in this river of streets and bridges.
You won’t be there at all, you won’t even be a memory,
and when I think of you I’ll be thinking a thought
that’s obscurely trying to recall you.

El Futuro

Y sé muy bien que no estarás.
No estarás en la calle, en el murmullo que brota de noche
de los postes de alumbrado, ni en el gesto
de elegir el menú, ni en la sonrisa
que alivia los completos en los subtes,
ni en los libros prestados ni en el hasta mañana.
No estarás en mis sueños,
en el destino original de mis palabras,
ni en una cifra telefónica estarás
o en el color de un par de guantes o una blusa.
Me enojaré, amor mío, sin que sea por ti,
y compraré bombones pero no para ti,
me pararé en la esquina a la que no vendrás,
y diré las palabras que se dicen
y comeré las cosas que se comen
y soñaré los sueños que se sueñan
y sé muy bien que no estarás,
ni aquí adentro, la cárcel donde aún te retengo,
ni allí fuera, este río de calles y de puentes.
No estarás para nada, no serás ni recuerdo,
y cuando piense en ti pensaré un pensamiento
que oscuramente trata de acordarse de ti.

Sa Hinaharap
At sigurado namang wala ka doon
Wala ka sa kalye, ni sa alingawngaw na huni
sa mga arko ng ilaw tuwing gabi, ni sa mga gawi
kapag pumipili sa menu, ni sa mga ngiti
na nagpapagaan sa siksikan sa tren,
wala rin sa mga libro, wala sa mga magkita-na-lang-ulit-bukas.
Hindi ka magpapakita sa panaginip ko,
sa orihinal na destinasyon ng mga salita ko,
o sa unang numero ng teleponong pipindutin
o sa kulay ng pares ng guantes o blusa.
Mababaliw ako, mahal ko, pero hindi dahil sa ‘yo,
Bibili ako ng tsokolate, pero hindi para sa ‘yo,
Hihinto ako sa mga kanto na hindi mo mapupuntahan,
at sasabihin ko ang mga salitang sinasabi
at kakainin ko ang mga bagay na kinakain
at mananaginip ako ng mga panaginip
at alam kong wala ka rin doon,
o dito sa loob, sa kulungan kung saan hawak pa kita,
O sa labas, sa ilog ng mga kalye at tulay.
Hindi kita matatagpuan doon, ni hindi ka magiging ala-ala,
at kapag naiisip kita, maiisip ko na iniisip lamang kita
at bihira lang kitang susubukan alalahanin.

Julio Cortázar (1914-1984) is one of the most important Argentine novelists and short story writers of the twentieth century. Most of his literary production occurred while he was living in exile in Paris. His poetry was not as well known and remains largely untranslated.

This poem originally appeared in the text Último Round, Siglo Veintiuno Editores, 1969.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s