5956.- DENNIS O' DRISCOLL

Dennis O’Driscoll (Thurles, Irlanda 1954). Ha merecido, entre otros, el Lannan Literary Award, the E.M. Forster Award of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the O’Shaughnessy Award for Poetry from the Center for Irish Studies in Minnesota. Su último poemario es “Dear life”.

PUBLICACIONES:
Kist (Dolmen Press, 1982)
Hidden Extras (Anvil Press Poetry, London/Dedalus Press, Dublin, 1987)
Long Story Short (Anvil Press Poetry/Dedalus Press, 1993)
Quality Time (Anvil Press Poetry, 1997)
Weather Permitting (Anvil Press Poetry, 1999), which was a Poetry Book Society Recommendation and shortlisted for the Irish Times Poetry Prize 2001
Exemplary Damages (Anvil Press Poetry, 2002)
New and Selected Poems (Anvil Press Poetry, 2004) was a Poetry Book Society Special Commendation
Reality Check (Anvil Press Poetry, 2007/ Copper Canyon Press, US, 2008), was shortlisted for the Irish Times/Poetry Now Prize
He has also published three chapbooks. These are:
The Bottom Line (Dedalus Editions, 1994)
50 O’Clock (Happy Dragons' Press, UK, 2005)[4]
All the Living (Traffic Street Press, Minnesota, 2008).












Como suele decirse


Suponer que todo tiene significado.
Regresar en la tarde
sintiendo que te ganaste un descanso
y poner los pies en alto
frente al resplandor de la tele y la chimenea.
Ver tus programas favoritos.
Estar casada con un vecino
al que tus padres quieren con locura.
Estar satisfecha con lo que tienes,
los vecinos el largo de la falda que está de moda,
la doble inmersión, el gobierno que hace su mejor esfuerzo.
Mantener una talla promedio
y comprar ropa en las tiendas.
tener el tipo de cara
que puede maquillarse hasta ser bonita.
Ir con gusto al trabajo
sabiendo lo aburrida que estarías en casa.
Planear vacaciones adonde los cuerpos se mezclan,
dorados como granos de arena.
Permitirse pequeños excesos,
crudas navideñas, tacones de aguja,
atracones de pasteles de chocolate, cabello aclarado.
Posponer los hijos hasta que se pueda
ampliar la casa y terminar de pagar el carro.
Ver el mundo a través de cristales dobles
y no encontrar nada mal.
Contar con seguir viviendo así
y mirar hacia adelante. Sin arrepentimiento.
Levantarse a diario sin asombro ni temor,
encontrando en el autobús a gente que reconoces
y que te acepta, sin cuestionarte, tal como eres.


[Versión de Una Pérez Ruiz]










Normally speaking


To assume everything has meaning.
To return at evening
feeling you have earned a rest
and put your feet up
before a glowing TV set and fire.
To have your favorite shows.
To be married to a local
whom your parents absolutely adore.
To be satisfied with what you have,
the neighbors, the current hemline
the dual immersion, the goverment doing its best.
To keep to an average size
and buy clothes off the rack.
To bear the kind of face
that can be made-up to prettines.
To head contentedly for work
knowing how bored you’d be at home.
To book holidays to where bodies blend,
tanned like sandgrains.
To be given to little excesses,
Christmas hangovers, spike high heels,
chocolate éclair binges, lightened hair.
To postpone children until the house’s extension
can be afforded and the car paid off.
To see the world through double glazing
and find nothing wrong.
To expect to go on living like this
and to look straight forward. No regret.
To get up each day neither in wonder nor in fear,
meeting people on the bus you recognize
and who accept you, without question, for what you are.