Silencioso,
con silencio de piedra submarina,
con la conciencia sometida al hierro,
con la muerte trenzando sus cuchillos,
sintió que se quedaba desvestido
de sangre, de cabellos y de uñas,
de ojos y de piel, como si fueran
un violento equipaje, el único equipaje
o un dosel, un visillo, una terca ventana
que atajaran el ojo a los verdugos
de Bautista van Schouwen, compañeros.
¡Tan callado!
¿quién hubiera pensado que pudiera
coronar con silencio su conducta?
¿recordar a la especie la decencia?
¿y juntar sobre el cuerpo luminoso
los golpes propinados a su pueblo,
la espina y la cadena?
Ha crecido Bautista van Schouwen para siempre,
elevado a semilla frutal, que desde ahora
nos da la dignidad para hacerla costumbre,
para escribirla en todos los presidios del mundo.
Secando la memoria,
clausurando la boca,
no dijo una palabra,
ni una fecha, ni un nombre,
ni un país, ni un río,
ni una flor,ni un bosque,
ni una abeja que sirvieran
de mapa a los verdugos de su pueblo.
Eso es todo.
Así es todo de simple, compañeros:
en el duro momento de los hechos
es tajante como agua de cascada
y declara invencible su silencio,
se doctora en metal enfurecido,
se gradúa de bosque indescifrable,
se viste de eficacia,
se acoraza en conciencia:
ha humillado las garras que araron
en su piel,
y así es que su tormento se convierte
en un surco,
y al golpearlo en la tierra
lo forjaron semilla.
con silencio de piedra submarina,
con la conciencia sometida al hierro,
con la muerte trenzando sus cuchillos,
sintió que se quedaba desvestido
de sangre, de cabellos y de uñas,
de ojos y de piel, como si fueran
un violento equipaje, el único equipaje
o un dosel, un visillo, una terca ventana
que atajaran el ojo a los verdugos
de Bautista van Schouwen, compañeros.
¡Tan callado!
¿quién hubiera pensado que pudiera
coronar con silencio su conducta?
¿recordar a la especie la decencia?
¿y juntar sobre el cuerpo luminoso
los golpes propinados a su pueblo,
la espina y la cadena?
Ha crecido Bautista van Schouwen para siempre,
elevado a semilla frutal, que desde ahora
nos da la dignidad para hacerla costumbre,
para escribirla en todos los presidios del mundo.
Secando la memoria,
clausurando la boca,
no dijo una palabra,
ni una fecha, ni un nombre,
ni un país, ni un río,
ni una flor,ni un bosque,
ni una abeja que sirvieran
de mapa a los verdugos de su pueblo.
Eso es todo.
Así es todo de simple, compañeros:
en el duro momento de los hechos
es tajante como agua de cascada
y declara invencible su silencio,
se doctora en metal enfurecido,
se gradúa de bosque indescifrable,
se viste de eficacia,
se acoraza en conciencia:
ha humillado las garras que araron
en su piel,
y así es que su tormento se convierte
en un surco,
y al golpearlo en la tierra
lo forjaron semilla.
Contributed by Marcia - 2007/12/3 - 18:21
Language: English
Versione inglese dal libretto che accompagna l’album “Chile: Songs for the Resistance”.
DIGNITY BECOMES A HABIT
Silently,
with the silence of an underwarer rock,
with consciousness subjected to steel,
with death preparing its knives,
he felt himself stripped of hair, of blood and of nails,
of eyes and skin, as if they were
a violent baggage, the only baggage,
or a canopy, a blind, a stubborn window,
that would attack the eyes of the executioners
of Bautista van Schouwen, compañeros.
So silent!
Who would have thought that he could
crown his conduct with silence,
remember the essence of decency,
and gather on his luminous body
the blows given to his people,
the thorn and the chain.
Bautista van Schouwen has grown forever
into a fruitful seed that from this lime on
will give us dignity which will become a habit,
write of in every jail of the world.
Drying up his memory,
closing his mouth,
he never said a word or a date,
or a name, or a country,
or a river, or a flower,
or a forest, or a bee
that could serve
as map for the executioners of his people.
That is all.
Everything is that simple, compañeros.
In the hard moment of reality,
he cuts like a waterfall,
declaring his silence invincible.
He turns into furious metal.
He becomes an impenetrable forest.
He covers himself with determination.
He embraces himself with consciousness.
He has humiliated the claws
that raked his skin.
And in that way his torment becomes a furrow,
and when they beat him into the earth
they leave seed.
Silently,
with the silence of an underwarer rock,
with consciousness subjected to steel,
with death preparing its knives,
he felt himself stripped of hair, of blood and of nails,
of eyes and skin, as if they were
a violent baggage, the only baggage,
or a canopy, a blind, a stubborn window,
that would attack the eyes of the executioners
of Bautista van Schouwen, compañeros.
So silent!
Who would have thought that he could
crown his conduct with silence,
remember the essence of decency,
and gather on his luminous body
the blows given to his people,
the thorn and the chain.
Bautista van Schouwen has grown forever
into a fruitful seed that from this lime on
will give us dignity which will become a habit,
write of in every jail of the world.
Drying up his memory,
closing his mouth,
he never said a word or a date,
or a name, or a country,
or a river, or a flower,
or a forest, or a bee
that could serve
as map for the executioners of his people.
That is all.
Everything is that simple, compañeros.
In the hard moment of reality,
he cuts like a waterfall,
declaring his silence invincible.
He turns into furious metal.
He becomes an impenetrable forest.
He covers himself with determination.
He embraces himself with consciousness.
He has humiliated the claws
that raked his skin.
And in that way his torment becomes a furrow,
and when they beat him into the earth
they leave seed.
Contributed by Alessandro - 2010/4/13 - 14:23
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Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
Testo e Musica di Patricio Manns
Lyrics and Music by Patricio Manns
Album: "Chants de la résistance chilienne" (Karaxú) [1974]
Poema-canzone omaggio a Bautista van Schouwen Vassey, medico chirurgo, fondatore e membro del MIR (Movimiento de Izquierda Revolucionaria), assassinato il 14 dicembre 1973 durante la dittatura militare cilena.
(Marcia)
Canzone dedicata a Bautista van Schouwen, detto “Bauchi”, fondatore e dirigente del Movimiento de Izquierda Revolucionaria cileno (MIR). Poche settimane dopo il golpe fascista dell’11 settembre 1973 fu catturato dalla polizia presso una chiesa a Santiago e divenne desaparecido. Qualche anno più tardi, un religioso di quella parrocchia, tal Enrique White, rivelò che il Bauchi era stato ucciso al termine di un’intera giornata di torture inenarrabili, senza aver rivelato alcunché ai propri aguzzini.
(Alessandro)\