Otoño con Beso
A Poem by Eimao Martin Calvo
The Lovers' Harvest / Credit: An original image by Eimao Martin Calvo
Following the updated Autumn Leaves blog and playlist The Hub is delighted to continue the seasonal theme with a collaboration with "family friend" Eimao Martin Calvo. Eimao is a Madrileña, a native of Madrid, who now lives in Alicante and enjoys the spiritual splendour of the surrounding mountains and Mediterranean sea.
The Hub presents Eimao's poems about autumn, her favourite season, with her own orginal images and photographs from her adopted region. Why is autumn Eimao's favourite season?
She answers, enigmatically, with questions of her own: Why do we have ten fingers on our hands and not twelve? Why when it rains and I see the city contained in a puddle do I feel like writing? Why is the light of a candle capable of hypnotizing us?
Autumn with Kiss
In the sky gray and
solid clouds like
woollen pillows
they draw a cold
landscape in the soul.
The almost icy feet
walk, unaware of the course
and the kiss of the
leaves that rustle
under the soles of the feet.
How nice that autumn
comes and fills of shadows,
of gusts of wind,
of early rains the path barely
sketched in the forge and
how good that we are not tired
to resume the path.
Autumn arrives happy
and holds on tight
to the gnarled trunks
of the beech trees.
Autumn opens his fists and
throws, with adolescent glee
handfuls of yellows, ochre,
browns, greens, reds and browns
And the that claps
with the beating of its leaves
this hubbub of tones, treble and bass.
Ups and downs
rude and fragile,
subtle and crude
Nature lets go of her long hair
with golden streaks
and covers our eyes.
What a lucky fall
kissing our feet its fallen
leaves and caressing our faces
this crisp, fern-smiling air.
If winter comes
first I want to sleep here,
between the salient roots,
of the beech trees
and so keep dreaming
with this beautiful autumn.
And Wind, like a mischievous
child, begins to hum.
And I think then that what a joy
that he sings
to sleep peacefully.
Deep breath. I close my eyes.
I'm listening.
I watch out if any goblin
approaches to speak to me.
by Eimao Martin Calvo
Otoño con Beso
En el cielo nubes
grises y sólidas como
almohadas de lana
dibujan en al alma un
paisaje frio.
Los pies casi helados caminan,
desconodedores du su rumbo
y el beso de las hojas
que cruje bajo
las plantas de los pies.
Qué bien que otoño
llega y llena de sombras,
de ráfagas de viento,
de lluvias precoces el camino apenas
esbozado en la fragua y qué bien
que nosostros no estemos cansados
para reanudar el camino.
Otoño llega contento
y se contento y se agarra con fuerza
a los nudosos troncos
de la hayas
Otoño abre los puños
y arroja, con alegría
adolescente puñados de amarillos,
ocres, marrones, verdes, rojos,
y pardos sobre la haya feliz.
Y el roble que aplaude
con el batir de sus hojas
esta algarabía de tonos,
agudos y graves
altos y bajos
rudos y frágiles
sutiles y toscos.
La Naturaleza suelta
su melena larga con
mechones dorados
y nos tapiza los ojos.
Qué suerte de otoño
besándonos los pies
sus hojas caídas y acariciándonos
el rostro este aire nítido olor a helecho.
Si Invierno llega
antes quiero dormirme acquí,
entre los raíces salientes,
de las hayas y así seguir soñando
con este otoño bello.
Y Viento, cual niño travieso, empieza a canturrear.
Y yo pienso entonces qué alegría que cante
para dormir tranquilo.
Respiro hondo. Cierro los ojos.
Eschucho. Vigilo si algún duende
se acerca para hablarme.
para Eimao Martin Calvo
Music for Autumn with Kiss
To accompany her poem Eimao has chosen some instrumental music she used to listen to in autumn: Mike Oldfield's The Voyager.
YouTube video: Mike Oldfield - The Voyager