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Euskal Idazleen Elkartea

Pello Otxoteko Vaquero > Extracts


2003 Arnasa galduaren ondarea | Elkar


La mort est si souvent représentée comme une fin, une limite, une frontière, un voyage, un départ ou le passage d'une frontière. La mort y arrive-t-elle? Peut-on faire l'histoire de cette frontière et de cette arrivée? Qu'est-ce qu'un arrivant?

Jacques Derrida, Apories

Arrivers we are.
But we don't know what kind.
Arrivers who reach a port
or arrivers who never reach land.
We are lost and disorientated by the time we set out,
despite being arrivers.

But any arriver
has one single,
though hidden, aim.
And all arrivers will reach port,
exhausted, but we'll all make it.
The same look you left behind
will await you in portà
even if Death arrives in your eyes.

In this dark storm of life
light only exists in your eyes,
light of the day without dawn.
And the light leads us into port,
the lighthouse of our hope
arriver's trail
future's wake
voyage's aim, Death!

What worries me is
what the ship will be like
and how it will keep afloat.
I'd like to meet the captain, too.
I don't really mind
who will await me on the docks,
or if anyone will

Ports are
the pauses in melodies,
the doubtful moments for arrivers,
for we never know
if the song is over or
if it will continue with new melodies
enriched with deeper harmony.

ports are buoys on the voyage,
as our Captain tells us:
"Listen, brothers,
your best fellow travellers are ports!"

"Tighten the ropes, open your lungs,
let's enter harbour
under full sail!"
I looked back, whereupon
my gaze turned to salt
and mixing with water, it took the plunge.
I am an arriver
and I sail on a ship with no captain.

One day Death will await you
with the eyes you left before setting off
for you to enter the murky sea which is heaven.
But Captain!
Our helmsman
has long since died.
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