by Eduardo Galeano
Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty; that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on them—will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it. even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.
The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.
Who are not, but could be.
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.
Who don’t have languages, but superstitions.
Who don’t create art, but handicrafts.
Who don’t have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have faces, but arms.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the police blotter of the local paper.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.
Translated by Cedric Belfrage
– – –
“Los Nadies”
Sueñan las pulgas con comprarse un perro
y sueñan los nadies con salir de pobres,
que algún mágico día
llueva de pronto la buena suerte,
que llueva a cántaros la buena suerte;
pero la buena suerte no llueve ayer, ni hoy,
ni mañana, ni nunca,
ni en lloviznita cae del cielo la buena suerte,
por mucho que los nadies la llamen
y aunque les pique la mano izquierda,
o se levanten con el pie derecho,
o empiecen el año cambiando de escoba.
Los nadies: los hijos de nadie,
los dueños de nada.
corriendo la liebre, muriendo la vida, jodidos,
rejodidos:
Que no son, aunque sean.
Que no hablan idiomas, sino dialectos.
Que no profesan religiones,
sino supersticiones.
Que no hacen arte, sino artesanía.
Que no practican cultura, sino folklore.
Que no son seres humanos,
sino recursos humanos.
Que no tienen cara, sino brazos.
Que no tienen nombre, sino número.
Que no figuran en la historia universal,
sino en la crónica roja de la prensa local.
Los nadies,
que cuestan menos
que la bala que los mata.
– – –
Cedric Belfrage’s translation of “Los Nadies” into English is from With Our Eyes Wide Open: Poems of the New American Century, Edited by Douglas Valentine (Albuquerque: West End Press, 2014).
Valentine is the author of five books of historical nonfiction: The Hotel Tacloban; The Phoenix Program; The Strength of the Wolf: America’s War on Drugs; The Strength of the Pack: The Personalities, Politics and Espionage Intrigues that Shaped the DEA; and The CIA as Organized Crime: How Illegal Operations Corrupt America and the World. He is the author of one novel, TDY, and one book of poems, A Crow’s Dream. He lives with his wife Alice in Massachusetts.
Find “Los Nadies” with another translation and a link to Eduardo Galeano reading it, HERE.
Eduardo Galeano (1940-2015) was a Uruguayan journalist, writer and novelist.