Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Fernando Rendón

Circle

The unwary Margarita cried terrified when she dipped her foot in a gelatinous swamp
that called her by her name.

She was howling for eight endless hours while she carried an invisible child.

It rained and the only one of her words you could understand was hell.

The wind and the spring, jurors, condemned in silence her executioners.

The trees jumped cursing and then fell back to their roots.

Pain twisted and turned eroding the edge of the waters.

Faraway: the age of earth.

The nerves were pinched by the stem of the poppies. And we waited between patience
and impatience.

Maddened vegetables, as in nightmares we could not run.

After the supreme effort, we hardly kept life on the last step of human ridiculousness: a
clockwork drunk.

The next day the battered body, the wings more vigorous than ever.

Círculo

Círculo

La incauta Margarita gritó despavorida cuando sumergió su delicado pie en un
gelatinoso pantano que la llamó por su nombre.

Ella estuvo cerca de ocho interminables horas aullando mientras cargaba un niño
invisible.

Llovía y solo se le entendía la palabra infierno.

El viento y el manantial, jurados de conciencia, condenaban en silencio a sus verdugos.

Los árboles saltaban maldiciendo y volvían luego a su raíz.

El dolor serpenteaba erosionando las orillas de las aguas.

A lo lejos: la edad de la tierra.

Los nervios eran pinchados por el tallo de las adormideras. Y esperábamos entre la
paciencia y la impaciencia.

Vegetales enloquecidos, no podíamos correr como en las pesadillas.

Luego del supremo esfuerzo, mantuvimos la vida apenas en el último peldaño de la
ridiculez humana: un borracho de cuerda.

Al día siguiente el cuerpo maltratado, las alas vigorosas como nunca.
Close

Circle

The unwary Margarita cried terrified when she dipped her foot in a gelatinous swamp
that called her by her name.

She was howling for eight endless hours while she carried an invisible child.

It rained and the only one of her words you could understand was hell.

The wind and the spring, jurors, condemned in silence her executioners.

The trees jumped cursing and then fell back to their roots.

Pain twisted and turned eroding the edge of the waters.

Faraway: the age of earth.

The nerves were pinched by the stem of the poppies. And we waited between patience
and impatience.

Maddened vegetables, as in nightmares we could not run.

After the supreme effort, we hardly kept life on the last step of human ridiculousness: a
clockwork drunk.

The next day the battered body, the wings more vigorous than ever.

Circle

The unwary Margarita cried terrified when she dipped her foot in a gelatinous swamp
that called her by her name.

She was howling for eight endless hours while she carried an invisible child.

It rained and the only one of her words you could understand was hell.

The wind and the spring, jurors, condemned in silence her executioners.

The trees jumped cursing and then fell back to their roots.

Pain twisted and turned eroding the edge of the waters.

Faraway: the age of earth.

The nerves were pinched by the stem of the poppies. And we waited between patience
and impatience.

Maddened vegetables, as in nightmares we could not run.

After the supreme effort, we hardly kept life on the last step of human ridiculousness: a
clockwork drunk.

The next day the battered body, the wings more vigorous than ever.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère