Avui, abans d'anar a la piscina com tots els diumenges, he fet unes magdalenes, i hi he afegit canyella aquesta vegada. M'he quedat ajupit davant el forn, contemplant-les mentre s'elevaven a poc a poc dins la seua caixeta de paper, lluentes, humils, quasi cantant il·luminades per la pereta de llum taronja. El temps s'ha aturat així un instant. M'han vingut unes quantes paraules al cap en forma de frases no acabades: el misteri de la farina, la suavitat quasi eròtica de la unió de mantega i sucre, el foc q tot ho transforma, el foc q tot ho transforma, el foc q tot ho transforma. A Grace Nichols va ser un huracà el qui li rebentà les cadenes q li oprimien el cor, el qui li tornà deus i fantasmes de la terra maternal i Caribenya; a mi una magdalena m'ompli la ment de no-res, em deixa en blanc el pensament mentre m'obri els porus de la memòria a través del nas i la pell. Amb les puntes dels dits acaricie lentíssimament el vidre q separa el dins del fora del forn. Em crema però ho païsc.
Hauré d'elevar aquest dolç a la categoria d'allò sublim pronto. Ja sé, ja sé: Proust també ho va fer fa temps.
PS: ací va el poema de Nichols del què parle dalt, l'última estrofa és una joia, de les meues preferides
It took a hurricane, to bring her closer
To the landscape.
Half the night she lay awake,
The howling ship of the wind,
Its gathering rage,
Like some dark ancestral spectre.
Fearful and reassuring.
Talk to me Huracan
Talk to me Oya
Talk to me Shango
And Hattie,
My sweeping, back-home cousin.
Tell me why you visit
An English coast?
What is the meaning
Of old tongues
Reaping havoc
In new places?
The blinding illumination,
Even as you short-
Like some dark ancestral spectre.
Fearful and reassuring.
Talk to me Huracan
Talk to me Oya
Talk to me Shango
And Hattie,
My sweeping, back-home cousin.
Tell me why you visit
An English coast?
What is the meaning
Of old tongues
Reaping havoc
In new places?
The blinding illumination,
Even as you short-
Circuit us
Into further darkness?
What is the meaning of trees
Falling heavy as whales
Their crusted roots
Their cratered graves?
O why is my heart unchained?
Tropical Oya of the Weather,
I am aligning myself to you,
Into further darkness?
What is the meaning of trees
Falling heavy as whales
Their crusted roots
Their cratered graves?
O why is my heart unchained?
Tropical Oya of the Weather,
I am aligning myself to you,
I am following the movement of your winds,
I am riding the mystery of your storm.
Ah, sweet mystery,
Come to break the frozen lake in me,
Shaking the foundations of the very trees within me,
Come to let me know
That the earth is the earth is the earth.
I am riding the mystery of your storm.
Ah, sweet mystery,
Come to break the frozen lake in me,
Shaking the foundations of the very trees within me,
Come to let me know
That the earth is the earth is the earth.
Josep, m'encanta!! Quanta veritat pot haver dintre d'una magdalena!!!
ResponElimina