Poem
Dolores Dorantes
8.-We came to visit your bed
“8.-We came to visit your bed. A cluster of girls. Everything was very ambiguous. Everything was bloodless. We came. To approach you. To find your hands ready for torture. To stain you for when you awaken. We are a cluster of girls playing at kissing each other. Taking you by the hands. Dazzle. We aren’t doing anything wrong. We are not pain not exhaustion not death.”
© Translation: 2012, Jen Hofer
8. - We kwamen je bed bezoeken
“8.-We kwamen je bed bezoeken. Een troep schatjes. Alles was heel dubbelzinnig. Alles was zonder bloed. We kwamen. Om je te enteren. Om jouw handen te zoeken voor de marteling. Om je vuil te maken voor wanneer je wakker wordt. We zijn een troep schatjes die spelen dat ze elkaar kussen. En jouw handen pakken. Verblind ons. We doen niets kwaads. We zijn pijn noch vermoeidheid noch dood.”
© Vertaling: 2012, Mariolein Sabarte Belacortu
“8.-Venimos a visitar tu cama. Un racimo de nenas. Todo era muy ambiguo. Todo estaba sin sangre. Venimos. A abordarte. A buscarte las manos para la tortura. A mancharte para cuando despiertes. Somos un racimo de nenas jugando a que se besan. Tomándote las manos. Deslumbre. No hacemos nada malo. No somos ni dolor ni cansancio ni muerte.”
© 2011, Dolores Dorantes
From: Estilo
Publisher: ManoSanta Editores, Guadalajara
From: Estilo
Publisher: ManoSanta Editores, Guadalajara
Poems
Poems of Dolores Dorantes
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8.-We came to visit your bed
“8.-We came to visit your bed. A cluster of girls. Everything was very ambiguous. Everything was bloodless. We came. To approach you. To find your hands ready for torture. To stain you for when you awaken. We are a cluster of girls playing at kissing each other. Taking you by the hands. Dazzle. We aren’t doing anything wrong. We are not pain not exhaustion not death.”
© 2012, Jen Hofer
From: Estilo
From: Estilo
8.-We came to visit your bed
“8.-We came to visit your bed. A cluster of girls. Everything was very ambiguous. Everything was bloodless. We came. To approach you. To find your hands ready for torture. To stain you for when you awaken. We are a cluster of girls playing at kissing each other. Taking you by the hands. Dazzle. We aren’t doing anything wrong. We are not pain not exhaustion not death.”
© 2012, Jen Hofer
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