PEDRO SALINAS AND THE BIG BANG THEORY

In the blog http://claratic.wordpress.com/  Chilindron points out that there´s a poem by Pedro Salinas (nobody better than him to link it with the last post) which, although it´s clearly about love, reminds him of the big bang theory. He also talks about the heterosexual side of the generation of Spanish poets of ´27, who, despite their appearance of dull office workers, they were quite flirtatious. And he´s right because the other part, the homosexual one, really seemed more interesting and experienced people.

What a big eve, the world!

Nothing had been made.

Nor matter, nor numbers,

nor stars, nor centuries,… nothing.

The coal wasn´t black,

and nor was the rose tender.

Nothing was still nothing.

 What innocence to believe that

it was the past of others

and in some other time, now

irrevocable, always!

No, the past was ours:

It did not even have a name.

We could call it

to our likeness: star,

hummingbird, theorem,

instead of this, “past”;

take away its poison.

Toward us

a big wind blew mines,

continents, motors.

Mines of what? Empty ones.

They were waiting for

our first wish

to be at once

of copper, of poppies .

Cities, ports

would float over the world

with no place yet:

they were waiting for you

 to tell them: “Here”

to launch the vessels,    

the machines, the parties.

Impatient machines 

without a destiny yet;

because they would make light

if you told them to do so,

or the autumn nights

if you did want them to.

Verbs, indecisive,

looked at your eyes

as  loyal dogs,

trembling. Your command

was to indicate them

their paths, their actions.

To climb? Its ignorant energy

was shaking.

Would  “to climb” mean

going up? And where would “going down”

lead to?

With messages to Antipodeans,

to bright stars, your command

was to give them a sudden awareness

of their own self,

of flying or crawling.

The big empty world,

useless, was in front

 of you: you would give it

its momentum.

And beside you, vacant,

unborn, anxious,

with my eyes closed,

with my body prepared

for the pain and the kiss,

with my blood in its place,

was me, waiting for

-oh, what if you didn´t look at me!-

you to love me

and tell me: “Now”