Poem
George Mario Angel Quintero
My hallucinations
My hallucinationsFlower and scatter.
Daedalus spits
Into a thimble
Before breakfast.
He awakes alone.
His body, a labyrinth.
Something grows, feeds.
Metastasis in irises.
Nostalgia slices.
I become a worm
Looking through what’s dead
For the radiant membrane,
For the pulp in the thigh,
Like an orchard where
Fruit pulls down branches.
Being lost is also
A kind of flying.
At least at first.
© Translation: 2008, George Mario Angel Quintero
My hallucinations
Mis alucinaciones
Florecen y se riegan.
En un dedal escupe
Dédalo en ayunas.
Amanece a solas.
Laberinto, su cuerpo.
Algo crece, come.
Metástasis en lirios.
La nostalgia rebana.
Me he vuelto gusano
Que busca en lo muerto
La radiante membrana,
La pulpa de un muslo,
Como un huerto donde
Fruta tumba a rama.
Estar perdido también
Es asunto de volar.
Por lo menos, en los
Primeros momentos.
Florecen y se riegan.
En un dedal escupe
Dédalo en ayunas.
Amanece a solas.
Laberinto, su cuerpo.
Algo crece, come.
Metástasis en lirios.
La nostalgia rebana.
Me he vuelto gusano
Que busca en lo muerto
La radiante membrana,
La pulpa de un muslo,
Como un huerto donde
Fruta tumba a rama.
Estar perdido también
Es asunto de volar.
Por lo menos, en los
Primeros momentos.
© 2008, George Mario Angel Quintero
From: El desvanecimiento del alma en camino al limbo
Publisher: Los Lares, Casa Editora, Medellín
From: El desvanecimiento del alma en camino al limbo
Publisher: Los Lares, Casa Editora, Medellín
Poems
Poems of George Mario Angel Quintero
Close
My hallucinations
My hallucinationsFlower and scatter.
Daedalus spits
Into a thimble
Before breakfast.
He awakes alone.
His body, a labyrinth.
Something grows, feeds.
Metastasis in irises.
Nostalgia slices.
I become a worm
Looking through what’s dead
For the radiant membrane,
For the pulp in the thigh,
Like an orchard where
Fruit pulls down branches.
Being lost is also
A kind of flying.
At least at first.
© 2008, George Mario Angel Quintero
From: El desvanecimiento del alma en camino al limbo
From: El desvanecimiento del alma en camino al limbo
My hallucinations
My hallucinationsFlower and scatter.
Daedalus spits
Into a thimble
Before breakfast.
He awakes alone.
His body, a labyrinth.
Something grows, feeds.
Metastasis in irises.
Nostalgia slices.
I become a worm
Looking through what’s dead
For the radiant membrane,
For the pulp in the thigh,
Like an orchard where
Fruit pulls down branches.
Being lost is also
A kind of flying.
At least at first.
© 2008, George Mario Angel Quintero
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