Entrada al Concurso de poesía de Literatos | el tallador | the carver

Esta es mi entrada al Concurso de poesía de Literatos: la máscara y sus sentidos.
This is my entry to the Literatos Poetry Contest: the mask and its meanings.

el tallador

estaba en el monte, debajo de un árbol,
tallando una máscara con su cuchillo,
no me vio llegar, absorto en su trabajo,
la cabeza gacha, milímetro a milímetro;
por aquel entonces yo era un pecarí,
mi rostro eran palabras salvajes y duras,
pelos retorcidos, ojos en la madriguera;
me acerqué despacio, cautelosamente:
había cosas que estaban prohibidas,
sonidos que estremecían por la noche,
luces que podían matarte en silencio;
él tallaba su máscara: un jaguar furioso,
el rostro cubierto con sus cabellos largos;
solo quiero saber de qué se trata, pensé,
y mis ideas crujieron como hojarasca,
y el ruido recorrió el monte, maldito;
entonces levantó la cabeza con violencia:
en lugar de rostro tenía un gran pozo,
un hoyo profundo, un abismo agobiante:
somos solo la máscara, me dijo al oído,
tallada palabra tras palabra, un alarido,
un golpe certero, y detrás no hay nada.

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[ENG - Translated with Deepl. The translation of poetry is very complex, therefore, in this case, it is not intended to have literary value, but only to serve as an orientation for reading.]

the carver

he was in the forest, under a tree,
carving a mask with his knife,
he didn't see me coming, absorbed in his work,
his head down, millimeter by millimeter;
at that time I was a peccary,
my face was wild and hard words,
twisted hairs, eyes in the burrow;
I approached slowly, cautiously:
there were things that were forbidden,
sounds that shuddered in the night,
lights that could kill you in silence;
he carved his mask: a furious jaguar,
his face covered with his long hair;
I just want to know what it's all about, I thought,
and my ideas rustled like leaf litter,
and the noise went through the forest, cursed;
then he raised his head violently:
instead of a face he had a great pit,
a deep hole, an oppressive abyss:
we are only the mask, he said in my ear,
carved word after word, a shriek,
a sharp blow, and behind it there is nothing.

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La fotografía es de Gpolak en Pixabay. Gratis para usos comerciales.
The photograph is by Gpolak on Pixabay. Free for commercial use.