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Me and Sylvia at the Memorial (April 2009)

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The bastards that destroy our lives are sometimes just ourselves.

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La bella nadadora

Speaking of Altazor, I found on YouTube a reading of the Prologue that I've been translating over the last few weeks. Clémence Loonis is reading:

My translation of this section below the fold.

"And I created the mouth and the lips of the mouth, to imprison ambiguous smiles; and the teeth of the mouth to keep watch on the absurdities that enter our mouths.

"I created the tongue of the mouth, the tongue which man tore from her proper role, making her learn to speak... She, she, the gorgeous bather, torn forever from her proper role, aquatic, purely sensual."

My parachute began to fall vertiginously. Such is the force of the attraction from death, from the open sepulchre.

You must believe it, the tomb holds more power than the eyes of my beloved -- the open tomb and all its charms. And I'm saying this to you, to you who when you are smiling, you make me think about the beginning of the world.

My parachute became entangled with an extinguished star, one which went conscientiously about its orbit as if it were not aware of the futility of its efforts.

And making good use of this well-earned respite, I proceeded to fill in, with my profound thoughts, the blank squares of my gameboard:

"Authentic song is arson. Poetry weaves herself through every thing, she lights the way for her consumations with her shivers of ecstasy, of agony.

"One must write in a tongue which is not one's mother tongue.

"The four cardinal points are three: the South and the North.

"A poem is a thing which is coming into being.

"A poem is a thing which never exists, which must exist.

"A poem is a thing which never has existed, which could never exist.

"Flee from the sublime external, unless you want to die brought low by the wind.

"If I did not commit some madness at least once every year, I would surely go mad."

posted evening of Wednesday, September 22nd, 2010
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