Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jairo Guzmán

THIS CARNIVAL

This carnival
won the battle
spread golden ears
of intangible wheat
glittering among the unseen

What is not seen?
The photographer

Let us say the sound
of green is not seen
save if you perceive its smell

Green oil smells of turpentine
and what does green smell of?

If we take green’s route
we return to the carnival
This is possible because of green’s
endless need for red

In this carnival
the sacrifice consists in spilling
the milk of mystery
on the breasts of assassinated children

This carnival
is only attended by the hosts
of the Libertines of the Thunderbolt
dancers to the rhythm
of the unsaid word
only apprehensible
by the Eros of objects

And music connects everything
from the abysses of silence
for all the people
so that the noise dances
in order to become the sound
of what vanishes in friction
but is reborn in universal contact

Music is the marrow of this carnival
and alcohol a gold damsel
not splashed by the blood
of the massacred
but by the solar dust of delirium

There are no notions
for this carnival
it resides in the flash of lightning
where the impossible golden ear sings

You will be a warrior when you see
the gold of tears flow

ESTE CARNAVAL

ESTE CARNAVAL

Este carnaval
ganó la batalla
esparció espigas
del oro del trigo intangible
que reluce entre lo que no se ve

¿Qué no se ve?
El fotógrafo

Digamos que no se ve
el sonido del verde
excepto si percibes su olor

El óleo verde huele a trementina
y el verde ¿a qué huele?

Si vamos por las rutas del verde
volvemos al carnaval
Eso es posible por la incesante necesidad
que el verde tiene del rojo

En este carnaval
el sacrificio consiste en derramar
la leche del misterio
en los pechos de los niños asesinados

A este carnaval
sólo asisten las huestes
de los Libertinos del Rayo
danzantes al ritmo
de la palabra no dicha
sólo aprehensible
por el eros de los objetos

Y la música todo lo conecta
a partir de abismos de silencio
que todo lo pueblan
para que el ruido dance
y sea el sonido
de lo que se desvanece por fricción
pero que resucita en roce universal

En este carnaval la música es médula
y el alcohol una doncellita de oro
a quien no la salpica la sangre
de los masacrados
sino el polvo solar del delirio

Para este carnaval
sus nociones son dadas
viviendo en las moradas del relámpago
donde canta la espiga del oro imposible

Serás guerrero cuando veas fluir el oro
de las lágrimas
Close

THIS CARNIVAL

This carnival
won the battle
spread golden ears
of intangible wheat
glittering among the unseen

What is not seen?
The photographer

Let us say the sound
of green is not seen
save if you perceive its smell

Green oil smells of turpentine
and what does green smell of?

If we take green’s route
we return to the carnival
This is possible because of green’s
endless need for red

In this carnival
the sacrifice consists in spilling
the milk of mystery
on the breasts of assassinated children

This carnival
is only attended by the hosts
of the Libertines of the Thunderbolt
dancers to the rhythm
of the unsaid word
only apprehensible
by the Eros of objects

And music connects everything
from the abysses of silence
for all the people
so that the noise dances
in order to become the sound
of what vanishes in friction
but is reborn in universal contact

Music is the marrow of this carnival
and alcohol a gold damsel
not splashed by the blood
of the massacred
but by the solar dust of delirium

There are no notions
for this carnival
it resides in the flash of lightning
where the impossible golden ear sings

You will be a warrior when you see
the gold of tears flow

THIS CARNIVAL

This carnival
won the battle
spread golden ears
of intangible wheat
glittering among the unseen

What is not seen?
The photographer

Let us say the sound
of green is not seen
save if you perceive its smell

Green oil smells of turpentine
and what does green smell of?

If we take green’s route
we return to the carnival
This is possible because of green’s
endless need for red

In this carnival
the sacrifice consists in spilling
the milk of mystery
on the breasts of assassinated children

This carnival
is only attended by the hosts
of the Libertines of the Thunderbolt
dancers to the rhythm
of the unsaid word
only apprehensible
by the Eros of objects

And music connects everything
from the abysses of silence
for all the people
so that the noise dances
in order to become the sound
of what vanishes in friction
but is reborn in universal contact

Music is the marrow of this carnival
and alcohol a gold damsel
not splashed by the blood
of the massacred
but by the solar dust of delirium

There are no notions
for this carnival
it resides in the flash of lightning
where the impossible golden ear sings

You will be a warrior when you see
the gold of tears flow
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