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Joan Salvat-Papasseit

I feel the cold of the night
and the dark beat of the drum:
and the group of young men passing by singing.

I hear the celery cart
clattering the pavement
and its rivals beating it to the marketplace.

The women in the kitchen,
beside the burning stove,
have turned the gaslight up and plucked the chicken.
Now when I look at the moon it seems to be at the full;
impatient for tomorrow,
they gather up the feathers.

Tomorrow round the table we’ll forget the poor —
and how poor we are ourselves.
Jesus newly born
will look at us for a minute over the dessert,
and having looked
burst into tears.

Salvat-Papasseit, Joan. L’irradiador del port i les gavines. Barcelona: Proa, 2005.

Translated by Pearse Hutchinson
Pearse Hutchinson
A hora foscant - Josep Carner
Angoixa de l’alta nit - Josep Carner
Assaig de càntic en el temple - Salvador Espriu
Cor fidel - Josep Carner
Joc - Pere Quart
Mans - Àlex Susanna
Nadal - Joan Salvat-Papasseit
Oda a Barcelona - Jacint Verdaguer
Ostende, 31 desembre 1949 - Josep Carner
Per a tots nosaltres - Miquel Martí i Pol
Retorn a Catalunya - Josep Carner
Sol - Josep Palau i Fabre
Temps nou - Miquel Martí i Pol
Vacances pagades - Pere Quart
Vistes al mar - Joan Maragall
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