Poem
Dolores Dorantes
23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock
“23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock. Motionless, waiting. Stowing blades and extermination lists. A line of names. A sequence of letters burning the papers. This place is hot and disguises itself in oxygen. This place is plagued and dresses up as countryside moved by the wind. This sky of blood that walks.”
© Translation: 2012, Jen Hofer
23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock
“23.-Alle sloten in jouw schijnschrijftafel. Wachten rustig af. Met scherpe lemmeten en lijsten voor uitroeiing. Een rij namen. Een reeks letters die de papieren verbrandt. Deze plaats is warm en vermomt zich met zuurstof. Deze plaats is bereikt door de plaag en tooit zich met door de wind bewogen velden. Deze bebloede hemel die zich verplaatst.”
© Vertaling: 2012, Mariolein Sabarte Belacortu
“23.-En tu simulacro de escritorio todas las cerraduras. Quietas, esperando. Guardando filos y listas de exterminio. Una hilera de nombres. Una secuencia de letras quemando los papeles. Este lugar está caliente y se disfraza de oxígeno. Este lugar está plagado y se viste de campo movido por el viento. Este cielo de sangre que camina .”
© 2011, Dolores Dorantes
From: Estilo
Publisher: ManoSanta Editores, Guadalajara
From: Estilo
Publisher: ManoSanta Editores, Guadalajara
Poems
Poems of Dolores Dorantes
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23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock
“23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock. Motionless, waiting. Stowing blades and extermination lists. A line of names. A sequence of letters burning the papers. This place is hot and disguises itself in oxygen. This place is plagued and dresses up as countryside moved by the wind. This sky of blood that walks.”
© 2012, Jen Hofer
From: Estilo
From: Estilo
23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock
“23.-On your simulacrum of a desk every lock. Motionless, waiting. Stowing blades and extermination lists. A line of names. A sequence of letters burning the papers. This place is hot and disguises itself in oxygen. This place is plagued and dresses up as countryside moved by the wind. This sky of blood that walks.”
© 2012, Jen Hofer
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