Botella al mar Bottle at Sea

Incredible sadness today as we learn of the death of the Italian peace activist Vittorio Arrigoni whose body was found in Gaza City.
The only response is poetry
and the hope that someday his message of peace will be carried by some random ocean current to a poet like Cuba's amazing Nancy Moréjon or our own beautiful Grace Paley.     DeeDee

Botella al Mar
Bottle at Sea
by Nancy Moréjon
A Luz y Mario Benedetti

Una botella de vino tinto al mar.
Son las tres de la tarde.
Una botella de vino tinto sin licor,
sin apenas los restos de eso vapores
que nos transportana lo indecible.
Una botella con un mensaje
para quien?
Era un papel muy blanco
emborronado con una escritura
minuscula casi ilegible. Alli decia:
"Escribo en este papel
que introduczco en esta botella
para Nadie
y para todo aquel
o aquella
que quisiera leerma
en las prozimas eras."
Salta un pez desde la espuma
y tumba el lapiz y el papel
con los cuales me expreso.
Rueda los dos
y sobre el mar
de grafito
viene un galeon diminuto
Y unos negros
amordazados
dando alaridos
y una niña hermosa y sola
de pupilas abiertas
y un duendecillo feo pero audaz.
Habia escrito estas peripecias
con el aliento de salitre
cuando el papel regreso a mis manos
como por arte de magia
A quien pueda interesar:
"buenos dias, buenas noches."
Una botella de vino tinto al mar.
Son las tres de la tarde.

A red wine bottle at sea.
It is three o'clock in the afternoon.
An empty red wine bottle,
almost without the remains of those fumes
that transpost us to an unmentionable state.
A bottle with a message,
for whom?
It was a white paper
scribble on with an almost
illegible small writing. It said:
"I am writing on this paper
that I put into this bottle
for Nobody
and for any man
or woman
who could read me
in the next ages."
A fish jumps out of the sea
and knocks down the pencil and paper
with which I express myself.
The two roll down
and on the sea
of graphite
comes a small galleon
with some muzzled
black people
screaming
and a beautiful lonely girl
with her eyes wide open
and an ugly but brave little fairy.
I had written these adventures
with my salty breath
when the paper returned to my hands
as if by magic.
To whom it may concern:
"Good morning, good night."
A red wine bottle at sea.
It is three o'clock in the afternoon.

(Translated by Gabriel Abudu)