They say I’m sick

Original version (Spanish):

“Dicen Que Estoy Enferma” by Ana Lamela Rey

Dicen que tienes pinta de enfermo por no querer levantarte,
peinarte, comer, vivir.

Pero no saben que todavía nadie ha inventado baúles
tan grandes.
Tan grandes como el tiempo que se ha roto.

Me llevo la alfombra como si llevase un muerto. Y su ruido.
Me llevo unos trozos de un cajón, de una lampara. Esas fotos.

Dicen que estoy enferma.
Dicen que estamos enfermos porque nos engañan con barquitos
de papel.
Pero aún no saben que me empieza a doler la cabeza,
me sangra la nariz,
se me nublan los ojos.

English version:

“They say I’m sick” translated by Shilyh Warren

That is what they say when you do not want to get up,
brush your hair, eat, live.

But they don’t know that no one has yet to invent trunks 
that large.
As enormous as the time that’s been broken.

I carry the rug as if I were carrying a dead body. And the sound.
I carry a few pieces of a drawer, a lamp. Those photos. 

They say I’m sick. 
They say we are sick because they deceive us with little
paper boats.
But they do not yet know that my head is starting to hurt,
my nose bleeds, 
my eyes cloud.

Aknowledgements:

Originally published in Spanish in the volume La Exhibicionista by Ediciones CGP in 2014 and republished in 2021 by Ed. Gravitaciones (www.gravitaciones.com).

Residing in Asturias, Spain, Ana Lamela Rey is a philologist specialized in Hispanic Literature, a poet, and an accomplished artist, combining her poetic work with storytelling, music and theater. Her most recent poetry collections is Por mí volvería a nacer/Por mi diba volver a nacer (Ediciones Trabe 2025).

Shilyh Warren is an academic, scholar and translator, currently based in Dallas, Texas. Her work has been published in Signs, Camera Obscura, South Atlantic Quarterly, and Feminist Media Histories, among others. Her research covers global film history, feminist theory and documentary studies. Her translated work was launched by AzonaL.