El perro nuestro de cada día This Day Our Daily Dog

El perro nuestro de cada día

Es como si las bolsas de plástico
se hubiesen puesto de moda para los muebles
porque para qué recordar a los muertos
y juntar polvo en la casa
 
Las telarañas emigran
y las hormigas hacen lo suyo:
se llevan la última miga
de un hogar, dulce hogar
 
Mamá cocina, barre, y me mira
con la sugerente pupila del plagueo,
y cuando pasea por el jardín
es porque anda buscando nidos vacíos
 
Pero cuando vuelve el chasquido del portón,
ella sonríe, el perro entra y nos pregunta
si hoy nos sobró un poco
de nuestro absurdo pan de cada día.
 

This Day Our Daily Dog

It’s as if the plastic bags
had become the sofa’s latest outfit
because why remember the dead
and gather dust in the house
 
The cobwebs emigrate
and the ants carry on
taking the last crumb from
a home, sweet home
 
Mamá cooks, sweeps, and eyes me
with that constant complaint,
and when she wanders round the garden
it’s to search for empty nests
 
When the gate clicks again,
she smiles, the dog comes in and asks
if today we have a little left 
of our absurd daily bread
 

The our dog of each day

[It] is like the plastic bags
would have become fashionable for the furnishings/furniture
because for what to remember the dead
and gather dust in the house
 
The spiderwebs emigrate/migrate
and the ants do their thing:
they take the last crumb
of/from a home, sweet home
 
Mother/mum cooks, sweeps, and looks at me
with the suggestive pupil of the plague
and when [she] walks through the garden
[it] is because she goes searching [for] empty nests
 
But when the click of the gate returns,
she smiles, the dog enters and asks us
if today we had left over a little
of our absurd bread of every day.
 

Original Poem by

Giselle Caputo

Translated by

Shook with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Spanish

Country

Paraguay