Poem
Gonzalo Márquez Cristo
THE ALLOTTED SHADOW
Night freed your eyes. The young woman with the shaved head threw the snails and read the dream of the solitaries.To an adolescent girl the fear of love was revealed . . . A stranger drank a face. We saw the man of the shared wife.
Delirium was the vengeance of the defeated.
I imagined a desire that was a nocturnal sea and I found my birth. Ardour rocked me. We were grateful to the wound.
I attempted the undecipherable. I felt the writing of the waves and I knew that in your body darkness stopped . . .
Inside you I feasted what was lost. I renewed my death and at the same time I felt I was leaving.
I escaped. My rapture stretched out my desolation. The vertigo hid ardour from me but did not abolish the deserts.
The body also was words.
We resisted the decline of the ritual and the beauty of he who never forgets to leave.
They told us the only meeting-place was death.
We sought the liberation of the origin.
I feel that the earth
answers all my questions.
© Translation: 2008, Nicolás Suescún
LA SOMBRA REPARTIDA
LA SOMBRA REPARTIDA
La noche liberaba sus ojos. La joven de cabeza rasurada arrojó los caracoles y leyó el sueño de los solitarios.A una adolescente el miedo del amor le era revelado... Un extranjero bebía un rostro. Vimos al hombre de la esposa compartida.
El delirio era la venganza de los derrotados.
Imaginé un deseo que fuera un mar nocturno y hallé mi nacimiento. Me mecía el ardor. Agradecimos a la herida.
Intenté lo indescifrable. Sentí la escritura del oleaje y supe que en tu cuerpo se detenía la oscuridad...
Dentro de ti sólo festejé lo perdido. Renové mi muerte y sentí al tiempo partir.
Escapé. La embriaguez extendió mi desolación. El vértigo me ocultó del ardor pero no abolió los desiertos.
También el cuerpo fue palabra.
Resistimos el ocaso del ritual y la belleza de quien nunca olvida partir.
Nos dijeron que el único lugar de encuentro es la muerte.
Pretendimos la liberación del origen.
Siento que la tierra
responde todas mis preguntas.
© 2001, Gonzalo Márquez Cristo
From: La Palabra Liberada
Publisher: Colección Los Conjurados, Bogotá
From: La Palabra Liberada
Publisher: Colección Los Conjurados, Bogotá
Poems
Poems of Gonzalo Márquez Cristo
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THE ALLOTTED SHADOW
Night freed your eyes. The young woman with the shaved head threw the snails and read the dream of the solitaries.To an adolescent girl the fear of love was revealed . . . A stranger drank a face. We saw the man of the shared wife.
Delirium was the vengeance of the defeated.
I imagined a desire that was a nocturnal sea and I found my birth. Ardour rocked me. We were grateful to the wound.
I attempted the undecipherable. I felt the writing of the waves and I knew that in your body darkness stopped . . .
Inside you I feasted what was lost. I renewed my death and at the same time I felt I was leaving.
I escaped. My rapture stretched out my desolation. The vertigo hid ardour from me but did not abolish the deserts.
The body also was words.
We resisted the decline of the ritual and the beauty of he who never forgets to leave.
They told us the only meeting-place was death.
We sought the liberation of the origin.
I feel that the earth
answers all my questions.
© 2008, Nicolás Suescún
From: La Palabra Liberada
From: La Palabra Liberada
THE ALLOTTED SHADOW
Night freed your eyes. The young woman with the shaved head threw the snails and read the dream of the solitaries.To an adolescent girl the fear of love was revealed . . . A stranger drank a face. We saw the man of the shared wife.
Delirium was the vengeance of the defeated.
I imagined a desire that was a nocturnal sea and I found my birth. Ardour rocked me. We were grateful to the wound.
I attempted the undecipherable. I felt the writing of the waves and I knew that in your body darkness stopped . . .
Inside you I feasted what was lost. I renewed my death and at the same time I felt I was leaving.
I escaped. My rapture stretched out my desolation. The vertigo hid ardour from me but did not abolish the deserts.
The body also was words.
We resisted the decline of the ritual and the beauty of he who never forgets to leave.
They told us the only meeting-place was death.
We sought the liberation of the origin.
I feel that the earth
answers all my questions.
© 2008, Nicolás Suescún
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