|
|
Sunday, August 4th, 2013
The tape Antonio listens to in the Casa de PoesÃa while Laverde is listening to his message, is a reading of one of José Asunción Silva's Nocturnes.
Una noche
Una noche toda llena de perfumes, de murmullos y de músicas de alas,
Una noche
En que ardÃan en la sombra nupcial y húmeda las luciérnagas fantásticas,
A mi lado lentamente, contra mà ceñida, toda,
Muda y pálida
Como si un presentimiento de amarguras infinitas,
Hasta el más secreto fondo de las fibras te agitara,
Por la senda florecida que atraviesa la llanura florecida
Caminabas,
Y la luna llena
Por los cielos azulosos, infinitos y profundos esparcÃa su luz blanca,
Y tu sombra
Fina y lánguida,
Y mi sombra
Por los rayos de la luna proyectada
Sobre las arenas tristes
De la senda se juntaban
Y eran una
Y eran una
Y eran una sola sombra larga!
Y eran una sola sombra larga!
Y eran una sola sombra larga!
Esta noche
Solo, el alma
Llena de las infinitas amarguras y agonÃas de tu muerte,
Separado de ti misma, por la sombra, por el tiempo y la distancia,
Por el infinito negro
Donde nuestra voz no alcanza,
Solo y mudo
Por la senda caminaba,
Y se oÃan los ladridos de los perros a la luna,
A la luna pálida,
Y el chillido
De las ranas,
Sentà frÃo, era el frÃo que tenÃan en la alcoba
Tus mejillas y tus sienes y tus manos adoradas,
Entre las blancuras nÃveas
De las mortüorias sábanas!
Era el frÃo del sepulcro, era el frÃo de la muerte
Era el frÃo de la nada...
Y mi sombra
Por los rayos de la luna proyectada,
Iba sola,
Iba sola
¡Iba sola por la estepa solitaria!
Y tu sombra esbelta y ágil
Fina y lánguida,
Como en esa noche tibia de la muerta primavera,
Como en esa noche llena de murmullos de perfumes y de músicas de alas,
Se acercó y marchó con ella
Se acercó y marchó con ella,
Se acercó y marchó con ella... ¡Oh las sombras enlazadas!
¡Oh las sombras que se buscan en las noches de negruras y de lágrimas!...
posted morning of August 4th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about The Sound of Things Falling
|  |
Saturday, August third, 2013
Oh boy!
—and in the rich neighborhoods of Bogotá people wore T-shirts saying Save The Hippos...
posted afternoon of August third, 2013: 1 response
➳ More posts about Juan Gabriel Vásquez
|  |
Friday, August second, 2013
Decir que uno no entiende
la conversación en que se está
sumergiendo
decir que Ay, no puedo
escuchar
estos poemas que ando leyendo
que los poemas en que se esté
dispersando/ sean ininteligibles
serÃa últimamente
no justificable
y por éso, debo
pedir
perdón
posted evening of August second, 2013: 1 response
➳ More posts about Poetry
|  |
|
Kind of flabbergasted that I have never encountered any mention of Glen Island amusement park in the writings of Thomas Pynchon -- it seems utterly implausible that the Chums of Chance (for instance) would never have paid a visit.
 A stone's throw from David's Island, which was devoted entire to the Army post, was Glen Island. This wooded islet had been rented, for the purpose of exhibiting little colonies of foreign people, by a good old sport, who confided to me that he liked champagne when it wasn't too "corky," and who had spent his whole life up to his present ripe age in exhibiting pretty girls and tickling the American palate with new and outlandish sensations. One year he would have Eskimos living in glass huts frosted to look like ice, with real Eskimo dogs and sleds; another, he would show a community of Hottentots, as unclothed as New York laws would tolerate, with their round straw huts and African drums. And lo and behold! this year he had imported and exhibited, alongside of a group of Sioux Indians living as they lived, a colony of Puerto Ricans, living as they lived, in their little thatched houses, and making the so-called "panama" hats. These jÃbaros were from Cabo Rojo, a coast town noted for the excellent straw hats made there for a century or so. And they ALL had hookworm. A most intimate friendship sprang up between the young military doctor and these homesick sons and daughters of Borinquen, who were perfectly delighted to find someone who could speak to them in their own tongue, and to whom they could complain —for the jÃbaro loves to complain. They were useful to me not only as sources for a continuation of my study, but also as living examples of this new disease, on which I now was asked to discourse at Me annual meeting of the Westchmer County Medical Society. I did so; and no detail was missing—even the sacred eggs were brought into the glaring sunlight of New York's sophistication.
↻...done
posted morning of August second, 2013: 5 responses
➳ More posts about La casa de la loca
|  |
|
What I'm looking for is that the spectator, too, that he take the time to reflect. I bid him place himself before some images that demand he look at them from within. ... that he make the effort to wonder what's coming; or better, how to perceive what has come. Look, you see nothing. It's completely abstract: an image composing itself.
Juan Carlos Bracho
Sólo cerrando puertas detrás de uno se abren ventanas hacia el porvenir por JCB
posted morning of August second, 2013: 2 responses
➳ More posts about Mirar al agua
|  |
|
posted morning of August second, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Readings
|  |
Monday, July 29th, 2013
In Egypt, the sunken city of Thonis is brought to light.
posted evening of July 29th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Pretty Pictures
| |
Sunday, July 28th, 2013
por Jeremy Osner
en sà mismo se refleja múltiples veces
demasiadas
no se puede tomarlo
en serio
no me puedo contarme
el relato
pero sÃ, esculpiéndome debo
admitir
los caracteres
(es decir,)
mi sentido tenue
de personalidad
requiere
que estas sensibilidades
alrededor de mÃ
se permitan ser
válidas
posted afternoon of July 28th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Writing Projects
| |
Saturday, July 27th, 2013
por Félix Fojas
tr. Jeremy Osner
Pica pica
Rasguña
El amor es herido
Y la lujuria es costra
posted evening of July 27th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Projects
|  |
|
por J Osner
(compárese)
ahora estoy en mi habitation
esperando
que se termine de llover
mientras suena
el teléfono.
contesto y me dices
que eres furiosa
pero no se me importa
ni un carajo.
ya largo tiempo
estoy de pie en la calle
enfrente del teatro
esperando que se termine
esta acción tanto larga
pero no apenas
ha empezao.
posted evening of July 27th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about The Unknown University
| Previous posts
Archives  | |
|
Drop me a line! or, sign my Guestbook.
•
Check out Ellen's writing at Patch.com.
| |
