La rama fresca / Der frische Zweig

Había un gran tronco,
sobre el césped seco y verdoso,
se asoma un madero tenebroso,
con pequeños negros ojos.

Empieza a avanzar,
sobre el tronco que dormido está,
pasa por este con afán
y por el césped caminando se va.

There was a big trunk,
on the dry and greenish grass,
a dark wood,
with small black eyes, is leaning out.

It begins to advance,
over the trunk that is asleep,
passes through it with eagerness
and walks across the lawn.

Mientras camina desprevenido,
aquel madero sombrío,
se acerca el frío,
es la lluvia que ha venido.

Y una nube gruesa,
al madero cubre con destreza,
lo toma entre su niebla,
lo captura y ya nadie lo observa.

As he walks unsuspecting,
that somber wood,
the cold approaches,
it is the rain that has come.

And a thick cloud
covers the wood with dexterity, it
takes it in its mist,
captures it and no one observes it anymore.

Cuando la nube se debe marchar
el madero deja atrás,
ya no es seco, cambió su tonalidad,
a resucitado y muy verde está.

Aquel madero sombrío,
en una rama fresca se ha convertido,
camina feliz y regresa a su sitio,
junto al tronco que siempre lo ha acogido.

When the cloud must leave,
the wood leaves behind, it
is no longer dry, it has changed its tone, it
has risen and is very green.

That somber wood,
in a fresh branch has become, it
walks happily and returns to its place,
next to the trunk that has always welcomed it.

Créditos
Stopmotion y cuento original de Margarita Palomino.
Colombia, noviembre del 2024