LOOKING BACK AT WHERE IT ALL STARTED... la versíon española la version française

The future geologist... knocking on a stone
I KNOCK ON THE STONE'S DOOR
IT'S ME, LET ME IN
I WANT TO COME INSIDE
TO LOOK AROUND, TO INHALE YOU LIKE A BREATH
GO AWAY - THE STONE SAYS
I AM HERMETICALLY CLOSED
EVEN BROKEN INTO PIECES
WE WILL BE HERMETICALLY CLOSED
EVEN GROUND INTO THE SAND
WE WILL NOT LET ANYONE IN.

I KNOCK ON THE STONE'S DOOR
IT'S ME, LET ME IN
I AM GUIDED BY A PURE CURIOSITY
THE LIFE IS MY ONLY OPPORTUNITY
I WANT TO SEE YOUR PALACE
AND LATER TO VISIT THE LEAF
AND THE WATER DROP
NOT MUCH TIME DO I HAVE FOR THAT
MY MORTALITY SHOULD MOVE YOU
I AM MADE OF STONE - THE STONE SAYS
MY NATURE FORCES ME TO BE CLOSED
GO AWAY, I DON'T HAVE MUSCLES TO LAUGH.

I KNOCK ON THE STONE'S DOOR
IT'S ME, LET ME IN
I HEARD THAT IN YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL EMPTY SPACES
NEVER SEEN, BEAUTIFUL FOR NOTHING
SOUNDLESS, WITHOUT AN ECHO OF SOMEONE'S STEPS
YOU SHOULD AGREE THAT YOU KNOW LITTLE ABOUT THAT
LARGE AND EMPTY ROOMS - THE STONE SAYS -
BUT IN THEM THERE IS NO ROOM.
BEAUTIFUL, MAY BE, BUT BEYOND THE TEST OF YOUR POOR SENSES.
YOU CAN DISCOVER ME, NEVER CAN YOU KNOW ME.
WITH ALL MY OUTSIDE I TURN TOWARD YOU
WITH THE WHOLE INSIDE I TURN AWAY FROM YOU.

I KNOCK ON THE STONE'S DOOR
IT'S ME, LET ME IN.
I DON'T LOOK IN YOU FOR AN ETERNAL REST
I AM NOT UNHAPPY I AM NOT HOMELESS
MY WORLD IS WORTHY TO COME BACK TO
I WILL MOVE IN AND OUT EMPTY HANDED
AS A PROOF THAT I WAS REALLY THERE
I WILL SHOW NOTHING BUT WORDS
WHICH NONE WOULD BELIEVE.
YOU CAN'T COME IN - THE STONE SAYS -
YOU ARE MISSING THE SENSE OF PARTICIPATION
THERE IS NO INTELLIGENCE THAT COULD REPLACE THIS SENSE
EVEN THE SIGHT, SHARPENED INTO THE CLAIRVOYANCE
WILL NOT HELP YOU WITHOUT THE SENSE OF PARTICIPATION
YOU CAN'T COME IN, YOU ONLY HAVE AN IDEA OF THIS SENSE
ONLY A BEGINNING, AN IMAGINATION OF IT.

I KNOCK ON THE STONE'S DOOR
IT'S ME, LET ME IN
I CAN'T WAITE FOR TWO THOUSAND CENTURIES
TO COME UNDER YOUR ROOF
IF YOU DOUBT ME - THE STONE SAYS -
ASK THE LEAF, IT WILL CONFIRM MY WORDS
ASK THE WATER DROP, IT WILL CONFIRM THE LEAF'S WORDS
AT THE END, ASK THE HAIR ON YOUR HEAD...
THE LAUGH GROWS IN ME, THE LAUGH, TREMENDOUS LAUGH
WHICH I CAN'T EXPRESS...

I KNOCK ON THE STONE'S DOOR
IT'S ME, LET ME IN
I DON'T HAVE A DOOR - THE STONE SAYS.

My translation of W. Szymborska's (The Literature Noble Price 1996) poem.


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