Charles Bukowski fue uno de los primeros escritores que leí sistematicamente en mi adolescencia. Imposible no disfrutar a un autor que declaraba en La senda del perdedor
Sólo los pobres, los perdidos y los idiotas querían ser mis amigos
En otras ocasiones he comentado la importancia que la música clásica tenía en la vida del escritor, y como la consumia por medio de su radio AM. Releyendo uno de sus volumenes de poemas, Burning in Water Drowning in Flame, me encuentro con éste de su primer periodo poético The Life of Borodin:
the next time you listen to Borodin
remember he was just a chemist
who wrote music to relax;
his house was jammed with people:
students, artists, drunkards, bums,
and he never knew how to say: no.
the next time you listen to Borodin
remember his wife used his compositions
to line the cat boxes with
or to cover jars of sour milk;
she had asthma and insomnia
and fed him soft-boiled eggs
and when he wanted to cover his head
to shut out the sounds of the house
she only allowed him to use the sheet;
besides there was usually somebody
in his bed
(they slept separately when they slept
at all)
and since all the chairs
were usually taken
he often slept on the stairway
wrapped in an old shawl;
she told him when to cut his nails,
not to sing or whistle
or put too much lemon in his tea
or press it with a spoon;
Symphony #2, in B Minor
Prince Igor
On the Steppes of Central Asia
he could sleep only by putting a piece
of dark cloth over his eyes;
in 1887 he attended a dance
at the Medical Academy
dressed in a merrymaking national costume;
at last he seemed exceptionally gay
and when he fell to the floor,
they thought he was clowning.
the next time you listen to Borodin,
remember …
En otras ocasiones comentaré más referencias de Bukowski a la música clásica. Por lo pronto quedémonos en Borodin. De la ópera El principe Igor, las Danzas Polovetsianas con Seiji Ozawa al frente de la Filarmónica de Berlín:
