un angelito glamoroso peleando del lado de los buenos.
“Mirá que hay malos malísimos pero ninguno puede conmigo.
Mirá qué bien juego al tenis.
Mirá qué divina me queda la bikini.
Mirá que yo no quiero ser Sabrina porque no es tan linda
y usa el pelo demasiado corto
y a mí me gusta tener el pelo largo, largo,
como Rapunzel o como Lady Godiva…”
(a veces te imaginabas cabalgando como la preciosa condesa
y cómo te miraban los hombres,
desnuda debajo de tu pelo).
Angelito de Charlie, yo no sé cómo hiciste
para que el dolor no te manchara,
para no ahogarte, como Alicia, en tus propias lágrimas,
para conservar incontaminada tu rutina de escuela,
pan con manteca, arroz con leche me quiero casar
y tardecitas caminadas en puntas de pie
porque la abuela dormía la siesta.
Angelito de Charlie, fuiste una heroína con todas las letras
(siempre la más fuerte de las dos):
los malos no pudieron,
la Muerte no pudo;
nadie se comió tus perdices,
nadie te quitó la voluntad de mirar el mundo
con ojos de caleidoscopio.
Vos jugabas a ser un Angelito de Charlie
pero yo creo que eras un angelito de verdad
(a pesar de cómo te miraban los hombres
desnuda debajo tu pelo,
si al final lo mejor de esa fantasía inconfesable
era andar a caballo
You played you were a Charlie’s Little angel,
A glamorous little angel fighting on the side of the
good ones.
“Look ! there are bad, worse ones but none can mess
with me.
look at how good I play tennis.
Look at how good I look in my
bikini.
Look! I don’t want to be Sabrina because she is not
so pretty.
And her hair is too short
And I like to have my hair long,
long,
Like Rapunzel or Lady Godiva… “
(sometimes you fancied you were
riding as the precious countess
and how men were watching you
Naked, clothed only in long hair)
Charlie’s Little angel, I don’t know how you did
To avoid getting stained by pain,
To avoid drowing, like Alice, in your own tears
while keeping your school routine unpolluted,
Bread and butter, ‘arroz con leche’ I want to get
married said that children’s song
And tip-toe walking afternoons
Because grandmother was having a nap.
Charlie’s Little Angel, you were every inch a heroine
(always the
strongest of the two):
The bad ones couldn’t beat you,
Nor could death;
Nobody stole your ‘live happily ever after’ …
Nobody stole your will to look at the world
with kaleidoscope eyes.
You played you were a Charlie’s little angel
But I believe you were a little angel indeed
(despite the way men looked at you
Naked, clothed only in long hair,
so, all in all, the best of such unconfessed fantasy
Was to ride a horse
And have long, long hair)
Arte: Charlie's Angels Classic Beauty Collector Dolls, Donna Brinkley
Del poemario "Pretty in pink" (2016)
Traducción: Marcia Garay
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