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Otoniel Guevara
Statement
I take this opportunity to talk to you about a concern. In my country, one of the most violent in the world, according to statistics, we who make up the metaphor Foundation, we make 4 international festivals a year. We go to the villages, where there is no state culture. We have no support from the government, despite its progressive discourse, it does not adequately support this initiative, which is already more than 10 years. One of the main obstacles is that we are unable to pay airfare when wishing to invite poets. That reduces us, makes us quite limited. My question is can we establish a kind of cooperation, to European poets (for the time) who come to attend our festivals but by managing themselves the tickets? Would this be possible from 2015 onward?
Defensa Propia / Self Defense
|
para Arquímides Cruz, en el recuerdo. Yo
|
To the memory of Arquímides Cruz.
(Translation into English by Karla Koreas) |
De creer / From believing
|
a Mixtli Alejandra, |
For Mixlti Alejandra
(Translation into English by Karla Koreas) |
To these I would add a pair of poems but only with a poor machine translation, but hopefully it can be translated later by a sensitive poet.
PREPONDERANCIA DEL VERDE / GREEN PREPONDERANCE
|
En un laboratorio herméticamente sellado se planifica la manera más eficaz para defoliar un árbol
en lo profundo de nuestras montañas el árbol por milésima vez se prepara
para acunar un nido |
Hermetically sealed in a laboratory you plan the most effective way to defoliate a tree
deep in our mountains a tree for the thousandth time preparing
to cradle a nestfinally this |
EN ESTE INCENDIO / FIRE IN THIS
|
Esta es la selva junto a los esqueletos de los perros los huesitos sin besos de los niños
flores y trampas explosivas duermen en sus caminos el fuego transpira invisible en las calladas telarañas
aquí alimento mis diez tercios de magia
sobre las calles hay sombreros podridos y la lluvia acaricia la espalda de los tiernos cadáveres
aquí sostengo esta palabra que se ha vuelto aullido esta mirada que se tornó relámpago estos dedos que ejecutan mil oficios
aquí hay un niño que duerme con música de suelas en una desahuciada litera de cartón y busco la manera busco busco y no encuentro no encuentro cómo evitar que lo despierte un grito una tumba una bala
irremediablemente perdida |
This is the jungle alongside the skeletons of dogs without kissing the bones of children
flowers and booby traps sleep in his ways breathes fire invisible in silent cobwebs
here my ten food thirds of magic
on the streets there are rotten hats and rain caresses the back of the tender bodies
I argue here that this word has become howl This look became lightning these fingers running thousand trades
here is a child sleeping with music soles berth a cardboard evicted and look how I look and I find looking I can not find how to avoid to awaken a shout a tomb bullet irretrievably lost |
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