Poem
Armando Romero
THE DIGITAL TREE
This was a man whose right hand had been buriedwho would spend his days in an empty room
resting his feet against the upper corner of the window
while holding a ship's porthole in his left hand;
rhinoceroses would pierce it with their horns
and allow their metallic hides to shine through
He had taken up the notion of being a poet
and spent so much of his time talking about the war
that he had neglected his right hand.
It had grown slowly and furiously
and, without his being aware of it,
had crossed through the very center of the earth and surfaced at the other end.
When the children of northern Sumatra
suddenly saw a tree without leaves and without fruit,
they rushed off to summon their parents,
When they came, they brought heavy swords
and felled the tree at its roots.
A white liquid seeped from its ravaged bark.
From that moment on,
this man as a poet, feels a sharp, cutting pain,
but he cannot tell exactly where in his body
it is contained.
EL ÁRBOL DIGITAL
EL ÁRBOL DIGITAL
Era un hombre al que le habían enterrado su mano derechaPasaba sus días metido en una pieza vacía
Donde se sentaba
Los pies contra el ángulo superior de la ventana
Y su mano izquierda sosteniendo un ojo de buey
Por el cual los rinocerontes
Ensartaban su cuerno
Y hacían brillar su corteza metálica
Le había dado por ser poeta
Y se pasaba todo el tiempo hablando de la guerra
De tal manera
Que había descuidado su mano derecha
Esta creció lenta y furiosamente
Y sin que él se diera cuenta
Atravesó el mundo de lado a lado
Cuando los niños de la parte norte de Sumatra
Vieron aparecer un árbol sin hojas y sin frutos
Corrieron espantados a llamar a sus padres
Estos vinieron con sus gruesas espadas
Y cortaron el árbol de raíz
Un líquido blanco lechoso salió de ta corteza tronchada
Desde ese entonces
El hombre como un poeta
Siente un dolor terrible
Agudo
En un sitio del cuerpo que no puede determinar
Poems
Poems of Armando Romero
Close
THE DIGITAL TREE
This was a man whose right hand had been buriedwho would spend his days in an empty room
resting his feet against the upper corner of the window
while holding a ship's porthole in his left hand;
rhinoceroses would pierce it with their horns
and allow their metallic hides to shine through
He had taken up the notion of being a poet
and spent so much of his time talking about the war
that he had neglected his right hand.
It had grown slowly and furiously
and, without his being aware of it,
had crossed through the very center of the earth and surfaced at the other end.
When the children of northern Sumatra
suddenly saw a tree without leaves and without fruit,
they rushed off to summon their parents,
When they came, they brought heavy swords
and felled the tree at its roots.
A white liquid seeped from its ravaged bark.
From that moment on,
this man as a poet, feels a sharp, cutting pain,
but he cannot tell exactly where in his body
it is contained.
THE DIGITAL TREE
This was a man whose right hand had been buriedwho would spend his days in an empty room
resting his feet against the upper corner of the window
while holding a ship's porthole in his left hand;
rhinoceroses would pierce it with their horns
and allow their metallic hides to shine through
He had taken up the notion of being a poet
and spent so much of his time talking about the war
that he had neglected his right hand.
It had grown slowly and furiously
and, without his being aware of it,
had crossed through the very center of the earth and surfaced at the other end.
When the children of northern Sumatra
suddenly saw a tree without leaves and without fruit,
they rushed off to summon their parents,
When they came, they brought heavy swords
and felled the tree at its roots.
A white liquid seeped from its ravaged bark.
From that moment on,
this man as a poet, feels a sharp, cutting pain,
but he cannot tell exactly where in his body
it is contained.
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère