The Mismarried Woman
by Luis Alberto de Cuenca

You tell me that Juan Luis doesn’t understand you,
that he only thinks about his computers
and completely ignores you at night.
You tell me that your kids are good for nothing,
that they only trouble you, that they’re bored
with everything and you’re fed up with dealing with them.
You tell me that your parents are old,
that they’ve become misers and  egoists
and you’re not their Little Princess like you were before.
You tell me that you’ve turned thirty-five
and it isn’t easy to start over,
that the only men you socialize with
are Juan’s colleagues from IBM
and you don’t like executives.
And me, what role do I play in this drama?
What do you want me to do, kill somebody?
Lead a coup against this tyranny?
I loved you like crazy. I don’t deny it.
But that was long ago, when the world
was a luminous dawn
that you didn’t want to enjoy with me.
Nostalgia is a sordid pastime.
Go back to being what you were. Go to the gym,
wear more makeup, buff out your wrinkles,
and wear sexy clothing, don’t be stupid,
hopefully Juan Luis will start paying attention to you again,
and your kids will go off to camp,
and your parents will die.

LHP, 2009

La Malcasada

Me dices que Juan Luis no te comprende,
que sólo piensa en sus computadoras
y que no te hace caso por las noches.
Me dices que tus hijos no te sirven,
que sólo dan problemas, que se aburren
de todo y que estás harta de aguantarlos.
Me dices que tus padres están viejos,
que se han vuelto tacaños y egoístas
y ya no eres su reina como antes.
Me dices que has cumprido los cuarenta
y que no es fácil empezar de nuevo,
que los únicos hombres con que tratas
son colegas de Juan en IBM
y no te gustan los ejecutivos.
Y yo, ¿qué es lo que pinto en esta historia?
¿Qué quieres que haga yo? ¿Que mate a alguien?
¿Que dé un golpe de estado libertario?
Te quise como un loco. No lo niego.
Pero eso fue hace mucho, cuando el mundo
era una reluciente madrugada
que no quisiste compartir conmigo.
La nostalgia es un burdo pasatiempo.
Vuelve a ser la que fuiste. Ve a un gimnasio,
píntate más, alisa tus arrugas
y ponte ropa sexy, no seas tonta,
que a lo mejor Juan Luis vuelve a mimarte,
y tus hijos se van a un campamento,
y tus padres se mueren.

4 Responses

  1. I enjoyed that a great deal. Do you know the original author? It’s really good, and your translation is quite impressive.

    1. Thanks for the kind words.

      It’s by Luis Alberto de Cuenca. There’s very little of his work available in English, which is a real shame.

  2. Hi luke,
    The second line starting by the end doesn’t say jail. “Un campamento” is a summer camp, but i guess you know it. That’s all.