Thursday, April 9, 2009

Poetry International Web: Poem of the Week

Agudelo, Columbian poet is the find of the week - just the sort of discovery that reminds me what I'm missing not keeping up with Latin American poetry more diligently. Follow the link at the bottom of the page for more of his poems. In addition to work by poets I know not just from reading, April's poetry quest includes contemporary German poetry encountered in my search for a particular poet whose name I can't remember but whose verse I will recognize. That's the April deal: more poetry; no back to back announcements.

ART OF DYING (FRAGMENT 2)
, William Agudelo
Requiem for the horse
for its always friendly smell and the odour
soaked in guarapo of its piss
for the gait of its hooves,
gentle like carpenters’ fingers.
Requiem for the blackness of its mane
combed in rainy afternoons
for its Palm-Sunday tail
for its coarse trot and its trips
when drawing the cart on hazardous ground
requiem for its short gallop
for its curved and shiny rump
for the bass tube of the feminine
and festive organs in its gullet
requiem for its coat
of living velvet for its thick-lipped
udder tenderness
for its straight forehead and its cross
for the panic white of its eyes
and the calm chewing of grass
and requiem for the joy (this, my joy)
o
f running and jumping petrified
on the bitter prairies of death.


© Translation: 2009, Nicolás Suescún

Arte de morir (fragmento 2)

Réquiem por el caballo
por su olor siempre amigo y el ambiente
impregnado a guarapo de sus meadas
por su paso de cascos bondadosos
como los dedos de los carpinteros.
Réquiem por la negrura de sus crines
peinadas en las tardes de la lluvia
por su cola de Domingo de Ramos
por su trote ramplón y sus traspiés
tirando del carretón en suelo falso
réquiem por su galope corto
por sus ancas combadas y lustrosas
por el tubo del bajo de los órganos
femenino y festivo en su garganta
réquiem por su pelaje
de terciopelo vivo por sus belfos
con ternura de ubre
por su recta testuz y por su cruz
por el blanco del pánico en sus ojos
y por la calma de mascar la hierba
y réquiem por el gozo (éste, mi gozo)
de correr y saltar petrificado
en las praderas agrias de la muerte.

© 2005, William Agudelo

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