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Max Ehrmann -Desiderata-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
DesiderataMax Ehrmann (EEUU, 1872-1945)Desiderata Go placidly amid the noise and haste,and remember what peace there may be in silence.As far as possible without surrenderbe on good terms with all persons.Speak your truth quietly and clearly;and listen to others,even the dull and the ignorant;they too have their story.Avoid loud and aggressive persons,they are vexations to the spirit.If you compare yourself with others,you may become vain and bitter;for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.Keep interested in your own career, however humble;it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.Exercise caution in your business affairs;for the world is full of trickery.But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;many persons strive for high ideals;and everywhere life is full of heroism.Be yourself.Especially, do not feign affection.Neither be cynical about love;for in the face of all aridity and disenchan...
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Joseph Brodsky -May 24, 1980-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
May 24, 1980 Jose ph Brodsky (1940-1996)I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages,carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters,lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis,dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles.From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width.Twice have drowned, thrice let knives rake my nitty-gritty.Quit the country the bore and nursed me.Those who forgot me would make a city.I have waded the steppes that saw yelling Huns in saddles,worn the clothes nowadays back in fashion in every quarter,planted rye, tarred the roofs of pigsties and stables,guzzled everything save dry water.I've admitted the sentries' third eye into my wet and foul dreams.Munched the bread of exile; it's stale and warty.Granted my lungs all sounds except the howl;switched to a whisper. Now I am forty.What should I say about my life? That it's long and abhors transparence.Broken eggs make me grieve; the omelette, though, makes me vomit.Yet until...
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Joseph Brodsky -Stone villages-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Stone villagesJose ph Brodsky (1940-1996)The stone-built villages of England.A cathedral bottled in a pub window.Cows dispersed across fields.Monuments to kings.A man in a moth-eaten suitsees a train off, heading, like everything here, for the sea,smiles at his daughter, leaving for the East.A whistle blows.And the endless sky over the tilesgrows bluer as swelling birdsong fills.And the clearer the song is heard,the smaller the bird.Aldeas de piedraLas aldeas de Inglaterra construidas en piedra.Una catedral embotellada en la ventana de un pub.Vacas dispersas en los campos.Monumentos a reyes.Un hombre con un traje comido por polillasve partir un tren, dirigiéndose, como todo aquí, hacia el mar,sonríe a su hija que se va al Este.Un silbido se oye.Y el cielo sin fin sobre las tejasse hace más azul a medida que se llena del exaltado canto de un pájaro.Y mientras más claramente se oye el canto,más pequeño se hace el pájaro.
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Max Ehrmann
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Max Ehrmann (EEUU, 1872-1945)PoemasMax Ehrmann -Desiderata-Max Ehrmann -We are all ships...-
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Max Ehrmann -We are all ships...-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
We are all ships...Max Ehrmann (EEUU, 1872-1945)We are all ships returning homeladen with life's experience,memories of work, good times and sorrows,each with his special cargo;And it is our common lotto show the marks of the voyage,here a shattered prow, there a patched rigging,and every hulk turned blackby the unceasing batter of the restless wave.May we be thankful for fair weather and smooth seas,and in times of storm have the courageand patience that mark every good mariner;And, overall, may we have the cheering hope of joyful meetings,as our ship at last drops anchorin the still water of the eternal harbor.Todos somos barcos...Todos somos barcoscargados con experiencia de vida,memorias de trabajo, buenos tiempos y pesares,cada uno con su carga especial;y es nuestro común destinomostrar las marcas del viaje,aquí una proa astillada, allí un cordaje emparchado,y cada casco ennegrecidopor el incesante apaleo de las incansables olas.Ojala seamos agradecidos por buenos tiempos y ma...
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Conrad Aiken
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Conrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978)PoemasConrad Aiken -Meeting-Conrad Aiken -Two coffees in the Español-Conrad Aiken -Portrait of a girl.Conrad Aiken -Goya-Conrad Aiken -God's acre-
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Conrad Aiken -Meeting-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
MeetingConrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978)Conrad Aiken Why do I look at you? Why do I touch you? What do I seek in you, woman,That I should to meet you again?Why must I sound once more your abysmal anothingnees,And draw up only pain?Hard, hard, I stare at you watery ayes; yet am not convinced, Now no more than ever before,That they are only two mirrors reflecting the sky?s blank light,That, and nothing more.And I press my body against your body, as thoungh I hoped to breakClean through to another sphere;And I strive to speak to you with a speech beyond my speech,In which all things are clear;Till exhausted I drown once more in your abysmal nothingnees,And the cold nothignees of me:You, laughing and crying in this ridiculous room,With your had upon my knee;Crying because you think me perverse and unhappy; and laughingTo find our love so strange;Our eyes fixed hard on each other in a last blind desperate hopeThat the whole world might change.Encuentro ¿Por qué te contemplo? ¿Por qué te t...
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Amiri Baraka
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Amiri Barak a (Everett LeRoi Jones, EEUU, 1934 - )PoemasAmiri Baraka -Monday in B flat-Amiri Baraka -Babylon revisited-Amiri Baraka -Funk Lore-Amiri Baraka -Somebody blew up America-

Amiri Baraka -Funk Lore-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Funk LoreAmiri Barak a (Everett LeRoi Jones, EEUU, 1934 - )We are the blues ourselves our favorite color Where we been, half herehalf goneWe are the blues our selves the actual Guineas the original Jews the 1st CaucasiansThat's why we are the blues ourselves that's why we are the actual song So dark & tragic So old & Magic that's why we are the Blues our SelvesIn tribes of 12 bars like the stripes of slavery on our flag of skinWe are the blues the past the gone the energy the cold the saw teeth hotness the smell above draining the wind through trees the blue leaves us black the earth the sun the slowly disappearing the fire pushing to become our hearts & now black again we are the whole of night with sparkling eyes staring down like jets to push evenings ascension that's why we are the blues the train whi...
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Amiri Baraka -Monday in B flat-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Monday in B Flat Amiri Barak a (Everett LeRoi Jones, EEUU, 1934 - )I can prayall day& Godwont come.But if I call911The DevilBe here in a minute!Lunes en Sí bemolPuedo orartodo el día& Diosno vendrá.Pero si llamoal 911El DiabloEstará aquí¡en un minuto!Versión de Carlos Bedoya
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John Forbes -Speed, a Pastoral-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Speed, a Past oral John Forbes (Australia, 1950-1998)it?s fun to take speed& stay up all nightnot writing those reams of poetryjust thinking about is bad for you ? instead your feelingsfollow your career down the drain& find they like it thereamong an anthology of fine ideas, bound togetherby a chemical in your bloodthat lets you stare the TV in its vacant face& cheer, consuming yourself like a mortgage& when Keats comes to dine, or Flaubert,you can answer their puritieswith your own less negative ones ? for exampleyou know Dransfield?s line, that once you become a junkieyou?ll never want to be anything else? well, I think he died too soon,as if he thought drugs were an old-fashioned teacher& he was the teacher?s pet, who just put up his hand & said quietly, ?Sir, sir? & heroin let him leave the room.Velocidad, Églogaes divertido adquirir velocidad& quedarse levantado toda la nochesin escribir aquellas resmas de poesíasólo...
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John Forbes -Death, an Ode-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Death, an OdeJohn Forbes (Australia, 1950-1998)Death, you're more successful than America,even if we don't choose to join you, we do.I've just become aware of this conscriptionwhere no one's marble doesn't come up;no use carving your name on a tree, exchanging vowsor not treading on the cracks for luckwhere there's no statistical anomalies at all& you know not the day nor the hour, or even if you dotimor mortis conturbat me. No doubt we'dthink this in a plunging jet & the black box recorderwould note each individual, unavailing screamçbut what gets me is how compulsory it is -'he never was a joiner' they wrote on his tomb.At least bingeing becomes heroic & I can seewhy the Victoriansso loved drawn out death-bed scenes:huddled before our beautiful century, they knewwhat first night nerves were all about.Muerte, OdaMuerte, eres más exitosa que USA,incluso si optamos por no unirnos a ti, lo hacemos.Recién me he dado cuenta de esta conscripcióndonde el mármol de ninguno res...
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John Forbes
2007-01-22 22:37:01
John Forbes (Australia, 1950-1998)PoemasJohn Forbes -Death, an Ode-John Forbes -Speed, a Pastoral-John Forbes -The Age of Plastic-John Forbes -The greek foot-
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Amiri Baraka -Somebody blew up America-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Somebody blew up America Amiri Barak a (Everett LeRoi Jones, EEUU, 1934 - )(All thinking people oppose terrorism both domestic & international?But one should not be used To cover the other)They say its some terrorist, somebarbaricA Rab, inAfghanistanIt wasn't our American terroristsIt wasn't the Klan or the Skin headsOr the them that blows up niggerChurches, or reincarnates us on Death RowIt wasn't Trent LottOr David Duke or GiulianiOr Schundler, Helms retiringIt wasn'tthe gonorrhea in costumethe white sheet diseasesThat have murdered black peopleTerrorized reason and sanityMost of humanity, as they pleasesThey say (who say? Who do the sayingWho is them payingWho tell the liesWho in disguiseWho had the slavesWho got the bux out the BucksWho got fat from plantationsWho genocided IndiansTried to waste the Black nationWho live on Wall StreetThe first plantationWho cut your nuts offWho rape your maWho lynched your paWho got the tar, who got the feathersWho had the match, who set the ...
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Amiri Baraka -Babylon revisited-
2007-01-22 22:37:01
Babylon revisited Amiri Barak a (Everett LeRoi Jones, EEUU, 1934 - )The gaunt thingwith no organscreeps along the streetsof Europe, she willcommute, in her feathered bat stomach-gownwith no organswith sores on her insideseven her heada vast puschamberof pus(sy) memorieswith no organsnothing to make babiesshe will be the great witch of euro-american legendwho sucked the lifefrom some unknown niggerwhose name will be knownbut whose substance will not evernot even by himwho is dead in a pile of dopeskinThis bitch killed a friend of mine named Bob Thompsona black painter, a giant, once, she reducedto a pitiful imitation faggotfull of American holes and a monkey on his backslapped airplanesfrom the empire state buildingMay this bitch and her sisters, all of them,receive my wordsin all their orifices like lye mixedcocola and alaga syrupfeel this shit, bitches, feel it, now laugh yourhysterectic laughswhile your flesh burnsand your eyes peel to red mud.Babilonia revisitadaLa cosa desvaídasi...
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-The Book of Eve-
2007-01-04 04:22:02
The Book of EveCorinne De WinterI.I tell you temptation was coolAs a string of pearls in my hands.It wasn?t the fruit,color of flesh and mouths,it was the idea of touchthat caused me to reach out.What did I, freshfrom the realm of mythology,my feet still half-sunk in clay,know of desire?Only that the word ?seed?stemmed from it,that all of natureseemed to be ripe with it.It´s the skin hungerWhich forces its own visionI learned that we are halfof something always,craving the mysteryof that other side.I learned that one must danceto its music.I tell you temptation was tender,patiently asking for directionin the Eden wilderness.With the clear God-patterndrawn on our palmlike crib notes,there was no escaping it.It wasn?t the new world and everything in it,the winged leaves and pink sky,the animals in their curious skin,nor the serpent with its slow grooveof persuasion moving in the branches.It wasn?t the new worldthat called to me?it was desire,that young diseasethat I answered to.II.The...
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Stephen Dunn
2007-01-04 04:22:02
Stephen Dunn (EEUU, 1939- )PoemasStephen Dunn -The rapist-
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Stephen Dunn -The rapist-
2007-01-03 16:21:01
The rapistStep hen Dunn (EEUU, 1939- )I am the man crouched behind a bushsitting at his desk.I will never be caught. All my victimshave a way of disappearing.No matter what sex you are,you will be next.You would sit next to meat a concert performed in the woods.If I looked at you in the subwayyou would not shift your eyes.No one ever runs. I am small, deceptivelike this poemthat is already inside you.El violadorSoy el hombre agachado detrás de un arbustoque se sienta a su escritorio.Jamás me prenderán. Todas mis víctimastienen una manera de desaparecer.No importa que sexo tengas,serás el próximo.Te sentarás justo a míen un concierto en el bosque.Si te mirara en el subte,No desviarías los ojos.Soy pequeño, engañoso,como este poemaque ya está dentro de ti.
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Elsa Glidow -Love's acolyte-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Love's acolyteElsa Gidlow (EEUU, 1898-1986)Many have loved you with lips and fingersAnd lain with you till the moon went out;Many have brought you lover's gifts!And some have left their dreams on your doorstep.But I who am youth among your loversCome like an acolyte to worship,My thirsting blood restrained by reverence,My heart a wordless prayer.The candles of desire are lighted,I bow my head, afraid before you,A mendicant who craves your bountyAshamed of what small gifts she brings.Devota del amorMuchos te han amado con dedos y con labiosY han reposado a tu lado hasta que la luna desaparecieraMuchos te han traído regalos de amanteY muchos han dejado sus sueños en el portalPero yo que soy joven entre tus amantesVengo como una devota para adorarteMi pasión ansiosa refrenada por la cortesíaMi corazón como predicador que se ha quedado silenciosoLas candelas del deseo están encendidasInclino mi cabeza, miedosa delante de tiComo una mendiga que clama por su botínAvergonzada de las pe...
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Rita Dove -Demeter's prayer to Hades-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Demeter's prayer to HadesRita Dove (EEUU, 1952- )This alone is what I wish for you: knowledge.To understand each desire has an edge,to know we are responsible for the liveswe change. No faith comes without cost,no one believes anything without dying.Now for the first timeI see clearly the trail you planted,what ground opened to waste,though you dreamed a wealthof flowers.There are no curses -- only mirrorsheld up to the souls of gods and mortals.And so I give up this fate, too.Believe in yourself,go ahead -- see where it gets you.Oración de Deméter para HadesSólo esto deseo para ti, el conocimiento.Entender que cada deseo tiene un límite,para saber en que medida somos responsables de las vidasque cambiamos. Ninguna fe viene sin costo,nadie cree sin morir.Ahora, por primera vezveo claramente el sendero que plantaste,qué tierra se abrió para dilapidarse,aunque soñaste con una riquezade flores.No existen maldiciones - sólo espejossostenidos en las almas de dioses y mortales.Y entonces...
More About: Prayer , Ades , Raye , Meter

Rita Dove -Persephone, falling-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Persephone, fallingRita Dove (EEUU, 1952- )One narcissus among the ordinary beautifulflowers, one unlike all the others! She pulled,stooped to pull harder?when, sprung out of the earthon his glittering terriblecarriage, he claimed his due.It is finished. No one heard her.No one! She had strayed from the herd.(Remember: go straight to school.This is important, stop fooling around!Don't answer to strangers. Stickwith your playmates. Keep your eyes down.)This is how easily the pitopens. This is how one foot sinks into the ground.Perséfone, cayéndoseUn asfódelo en medio de hermosasflores comunes ¡una flor como ninguna otra! Ella haló,se inclinó para halar con más fuerza...cuando, saliendo fuera de la tierraen su reluciente y terrible carruajeÉl exigió su pago.Todo terminó. Nadie la oyó.¡Nadie! Ella se había desviado de la manada.(Recuerda: ve derecho a la escuela.¡Esto es importante, déjate de tonterías!No contestes a extraños. Mantentecon tus compañeros de juegos. Mantén tus ojos en e...
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Rita Dove -Geometry-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
GeometryRita Dove (EEUU, 1952- )I prove a theorem and the house expands:the windows jerk free to hover near the ceiling,the ceiling floats away with a sigh.As the walls clear themselves of everythingbut transparency, the scent of carnationsleaves with them. I am out in the openand above the windows have hinged into butterflies,sunlight glinting where they've intersected.They are going to some point true and unproven.GeometríaDemuestro un teorema y la casa se expande:las ventanas se sacuden para volar libremente cerca al techo,el techo flota lejos con un suspiro.Cuando las paredes se liberan de todomenos de la transparencia, el olor de claveles,se va con ellas. Yo estoy afuera al aire librey arriba las ventanas se han convertido en mariposas,luz del sol que brilla donde se interceptan.van a algún lugar verdadero e improbado.Versión de Raúl Jaime Gaviria
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Rita Dove
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Rita Dove (EEUU, 1952- )PoemasRita Dove -Geometry-Rita Dove -Song-Rita Dove -Persephone, falling-Rita Dove -Demeter's prayer to Hades-Rita Dove -American smooth-

Elsa Gidlow -For the goddess too well known-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
For the goddess too well knownElsa Gidlow (EEUU, 1898-1986)I have robbed the garrulous streets,Thieved a fair girl from their blight,I have stolen her for a sacrificeThat I shall make to this night.I have brought her, laughing,To my quietly dreaming garden.For what will be done thereI ask no man pardon.I brush the rouge from her cheeks,Clean the black kohl from the rimsOf her eyes; loose her hair;Uncover the glimmering, shy limbs.I break wild roses, scatter them over her.The thorns between us sting like love's pain.Her flesh, bitter and salt to my tongue,I taste with endless kisses and taste again.At dawn I leave herAsleep in my wakening garden.(For what was done thereI ask no man pardon.)Para la deidad distinguidaHe despojado de las calles bulliciosasHe sustraído a una hermosa muchacha de su deslucidos sueñosLa he robado para un sacrificioQue le ofreceré a esta nocheLa he traído entre sus risasA mi sosegado jardín de ensueñosPorque lo que ahí será hechoA ningún hombre le pido perd...
More About: God , Know , Goddess , Well

Elsa Gidlow
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Elsa Gidlow (EEUU, 1898-1986)PoemasElsa Glidow -Love's acolyte-Elsa Gidlow -For the goddess too well known-
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Rita Dove -Song-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
SongRita Dove (EEUU, 1952- )When I was young, the moon spoke in riddlesand the stars rhymed. I was a new toywaiting for my owner to pick me up.When I was young, I ran the day to it's knees.There were trees to swing on, crickets for capture.I was narrowly sweet, infinitely cruel,tongued in honey and coddled in milk,sunburned and silvery ans scabbed like a colt.And the world was already old.And I was older than I am today.La tonadillaCuando yo era joven, la luna habló en acertijosy las estrellas rimaron. Yo era un nuevo jugueteesperando ser recogido por mi dueño.Cuando yo era joven, puse al día de rodillas al correr.Había árboles por mecerse, grillos por atrapar.Era apenas dulce, infinitamente cruel,seductora y mimada en leche,quemada por el sol y plateada y costrosa como un potro.Y el mundo ya era viejo.Y yo era más vieja que lo que soy hoy.Versión de Raúl Jaime Gaviria
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Rita Dove -American smooth-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
American smoothRita Dove (EEUU, 1952- )We were dancing--it must havebeen a foxtrot or a waltz,something romantic butrequiring restraint,rise and fall, preciseexecution as we movedinto the next song withoutstopping, two chests heavingabove a seven-leaguestride?such perfect agonyone learns to smile through,ecstatic mimicrybeing the sine qua nonof American Smooth .And because I was distractedby the effort ofkeeping my frame(the leftward lean, head turnedjust enough to gaze outpast your ear and alwayssmiling, smiling),I didn't noticehow still you'd become untilwe had done it(for two measures?four?)--achieved flight,that swift and serenemagnificence,before the earthremembered who we wereand brought us down.Terso americanoBailábamos; debió habersido un fox trot o un vals,algo romántico, peroque pedía discreción:pleamar y bajamar,ejecución precisa al deslizarnosa la siguiente pieza sin parar,dos pechos jadeantes alzándosepara dar una zancadade siete leguas: agonía tan perfectaque uno apre...
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Sam Hamill
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Sam Hamill (1943- )PoemasSam Hamill -Black marsh eclogue-Sam Hamill -What the water knows-Sam Hamill -There is a great sea called Tranquility...-Sam Hamill -The orchid flower-Sam Hamill -State of the Union, 2003-Sam Hamill -The gift of tongues-

James Fenton -Wind-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
WindJames Fenton (England, 1949- )This is the wind, the wind in a field of corn.Great crowds are fleeing from a major disasterDown the green valleys, the long swaying wadis,Down through the beautiful catastrophe of wind.Families, tribes, nations, and their livestockHave heard something, seen something. An expectationOr a gigantic misunderstanding has swept over the hilltopBending the ear of the hedgerow with stories of fire and sword.I saw a thousand years pass in two seconds.Land was lost, languages rose and divided.This lord went east and found safety.His brother sought Africa and a dish of aloes.Centuries, minutes later, one might askHow the hilt of a sword wandered so far from the smithy.And somewhere they will sing: 'Like chaff we were borneIn the wind. ' This is the wind in a field of corn.VientoEste es el viento, el viento en un campo de trigo.Grandes multitudes huyen de un gran desastrePor los extensos valles, las verdes ondulantes arroyadas,A través de la bella catástrofe...
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James Fenton -Out of danger-
2007-01-03 10:19:01
Out of dangerJames Fenton (England, 1949- )Heart be kind and sign the releaseAs the trees their loss approve.Learn as leaves must learn to fallOut of danger, out of love.What belongs to frost and thawSullen winter will not harm.What belongs to wind and rainIs out of danger from the storm.Jealous passion, cruel needBetray the heart they feed upon.But what belongs to earth and deathIs out of danger from the sun.I was cruel, I was wrong -Hard to say and hard to know.You do not belong to me.You are out of danger now -Out of danger from the wind,Out of danger from the wave,Out of danger from the heartFalling, falling out of love.Fuera de peligroSé bueno corazón y firma la liberaciónAsí como los árboles aprueban su pérdida.Aprende como aprenden las hojas a caerFuera de peligro, por amor.Lo que es de la escarcha y del deshieloEl lóbrego invierno no va a dañar.Lo que es de la lluvia y del vientoEstá fuera del peligro de la tormenta.La pasión celosa, la necesidad cruelTraicionan al corazón q...
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