Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Cristóbal Joannon

Embassies

Those edifices of the industrial era, whose sadness
is only contested by our tourist attractions
where the emerging middle class practice their right
to healthy recreation – for the working class
already won the top prize of Don Francisco
on Saturday afternoons with the family – those edifices,
I say again, are the bastion that Chile needs.

Their gardens: of enamelled green, precisely designed.
They explain that there the tree of life unfolds,
imperceptible, while centaurs, ephebos and agile shepherds
dance in a circle to the sound of the vihuela. It melts your heart
to witness the white march of the oriental planes
when spring has decided to remain with us.
As if swans and pheasants had established
their weightless kingdom, far away from the harpsichordal rain
that cool seasons spread carelessly.

Something of this nature is deserved by this country, still in the Iron Age,
wrung out, with all due respect, by a business of dead flies
trained, fortunately, to suppress their instincts.
Let us consider the woodlands scorched by salt
or the wastelands where only the worm rises early.
The audience’s affection has never lived up to the occasion.
Someday the put up or shut up of our insular situation
will be discussed in plenary sessions on self-esteem.

Please come inside. Those who have visited Londinium Britannia,
and got lost in the private life of their blurred labyrinths,
will appreciate the rigorous taste of the owners; the light,
like a freshly washed sheep, falls on portraits and busts.
This is Richard Porson, that one is Bernard Grenfell,
educated gentlemen waiting for their equestrian monument.
Even in solemn Piraeus they would have envied these relics,
credible evidence that not all our work is bodged.

Many political disorders were straightened out here;
the judgment of history will remember when dispensing its awards.
For example, at this very table the situation of Haiti was solved
in fifteen minutes. There was an urgent call for sanity.
Renowned judges raised their voices, irritated,
and the blue berets imposed a lasting order: they rescued
children and widows, dropped supplies from the air.
Regarding the way the peacekeepers devastated the island,
better not to go into details – why embitter ourselves now?

Before exiting the rooms and their respective anxieties,
let’s admire, in the windows, the spontaneous movement of the clouds.
In a few hours they will be water or wind, drifting away
to other valleys and shores fenced by the sea.

Embajadas

Embajadas

Esos inmuebles de la era industrial, cuya tristeza
sólo se disputan nuestros complejos turísticos
donde mandos medios emergentes practican su derecho
al sano esparcimiento – pues la clase obrera
ya obtuvo el premio superlativo de un Don Francisco
cada sábado en la tarde familiar – , esos inmuebles,
bien digo, son el bastión que Chile entero necesita.

Sus jardines: de un verdor esmaltado propio de estilistas.
Nos señalan que ahí el árbol de la vida se despliega,
imperceptible, mientras centauros, efebos y ágiles pastores
perpetran rondas al son de la vihuela. Enternece el corazón
observar la marcha blanca de los plátanos orientales
cuando la primavera ha decidido quedarse entre nosotros.
Se diría que cisnes y faisanes establecieron aquí
su reino ingrávido, lejos de los clavecines de la lluvia
que las estaciones frías reparten con descuido.

Algo así merece este país aún en la edad del hierro,
exprimido, con todo respeto, por una sarta de moscas muertas
adiestradas afortunadamente en la anulación de los instintos.
Consideremos sus predios forestales quemados por la sal
o aquellos peladeros donde sólo Dios madruga. El cariño
del público nunca ha estado a la altura de las circunstancias.
Algún día el come y calla de nuestra situación insular
será discutido en sesiones plenarias sobre la autoestima.

Pasemos. Quienes hayan visitado Londinium Britannia
perdiéndose en la vida privada de sus blurred labyrinths
sabrán apreciar el gusto riguroso de los dueños; la luz,
como una oveja recién lavada, cae sobre bustos y retratos.
Este es Richard Porson, el de allá es Bernard Grenfell,
instruidos caballeros a la espera de su monumento ecuestre.
Hasta en el solemne Pireo hubiesen envidiado estas reliquias,
pruebas fidedignas de que no somos tan mal hechos.

Numerosos desarreglos políticos aquí fueron encauzados;
el juicio de la historia lo recordará al repartir sus galardones.
Para no ir más lejos, en esta mesa se resolvió en quince minutos
la situación de Haití. Hubo un llamado urgente a la cordura.
Jueces de reconocida trayectoria levantaron la voz, molestos,
y los cascos azules impusieron un orden duradero: rescataron
a los niños y a las viudas, repartieron insumos desde el aire.
Sobre la manera en que los cuerpos de paz barrieron la isla
mejor no entremos en detalles – para qué amargarse ahora.

Antes de retirarnos de los salones y sus respectivas ansiedades
admiremos en las ventanas el movimiento espontáneo de las nubes.
En algunas horas ellas serán agua o viento que se aleja,
hacia otros valles, hacia otras costas cercadas por el mar.
Close

Embassies

Those edifices of the industrial era, whose sadness
is only contested by our tourist attractions
where the emerging middle class practice their right
to healthy recreation – for the working class
already won the top prize of Don Francisco
on Saturday afternoons with the family – those edifices,
I say again, are the bastion that Chile needs.

Their gardens: of enamelled green, precisely designed.
They explain that there the tree of life unfolds,
imperceptible, while centaurs, ephebos and agile shepherds
dance in a circle to the sound of the vihuela. It melts your heart
to witness the white march of the oriental planes
when spring has decided to remain with us.
As if swans and pheasants had established
their weightless kingdom, far away from the harpsichordal rain
that cool seasons spread carelessly.

Something of this nature is deserved by this country, still in the Iron Age,
wrung out, with all due respect, by a business of dead flies
trained, fortunately, to suppress their instincts.
Let us consider the woodlands scorched by salt
or the wastelands where only the worm rises early.
The audience’s affection has never lived up to the occasion.
Someday the put up or shut up of our insular situation
will be discussed in plenary sessions on self-esteem.

Please come inside. Those who have visited Londinium Britannia,
and got lost in the private life of their blurred labyrinths,
will appreciate the rigorous taste of the owners; the light,
like a freshly washed sheep, falls on portraits and busts.
This is Richard Porson, that one is Bernard Grenfell,
educated gentlemen waiting for their equestrian monument.
Even in solemn Piraeus they would have envied these relics,
credible evidence that not all our work is bodged.

Many political disorders were straightened out here;
the judgment of history will remember when dispensing its awards.
For example, at this very table the situation of Haiti was solved
in fifteen minutes. There was an urgent call for sanity.
Renowned judges raised their voices, irritated,
and the blue berets imposed a lasting order: they rescued
children and widows, dropped supplies from the air.
Regarding the way the peacekeepers devastated the island,
better not to go into details – why embitter ourselves now?

Before exiting the rooms and their respective anxieties,
let’s admire, in the windows, the spontaneous movement of the clouds.
In a few hours they will be water or wind, drifting away
to other valleys and shores fenced by the sea.

Embassies

Those edifices of the industrial era, whose sadness
is only contested by our tourist attractions
where the emerging middle class practice their right
to healthy recreation – for the working class
already won the top prize of Don Francisco
on Saturday afternoons with the family – those edifices,
I say again, are the bastion that Chile needs.

Their gardens: of enamelled green, precisely designed.
They explain that there the tree of life unfolds,
imperceptible, while centaurs, ephebos and agile shepherds
dance in a circle to the sound of the vihuela. It melts your heart
to witness the white march of the oriental planes
when spring has decided to remain with us.
As if swans and pheasants had established
their weightless kingdom, far away from the harpsichordal rain
that cool seasons spread carelessly.

Something of this nature is deserved by this country, still in the Iron Age,
wrung out, with all due respect, by a business of dead flies
trained, fortunately, to suppress their instincts.
Let us consider the woodlands scorched by salt
or the wastelands where only the worm rises early.
The audience’s affection has never lived up to the occasion.
Someday the put up or shut up of our insular situation
will be discussed in plenary sessions on self-esteem.

Please come inside. Those who have visited Londinium Britannia,
and got lost in the private life of their blurred labyrinths,
will appreciate the rigorous taste of the owners; the light,
like a freshly washed sheep, falls on portraits and busts.
This is Richard Porson, that one is Bernard Grenfell,
educated gentlemen waiting for their equestrian monument.
Even in solemn Piraeus they would have envied these relics,
credible evidence that not all our work is bodged.

Many political disorders were straightened out here;
the judgment of history will remember when dispensing its awards.
For example, at this very table the situation of Haiti was solved
in fifteen minutes. There was an urgent call for sanity.
Renowned judges raised their voices, irritated,
and the blue berets imposed a lasting order: they rescued
children and widows, dropped supplies from the air.
Regarding the way the peacekeepers devastated the island,
better not to go into details – why embitter ourselves now?

Before exiting the rooms and their respective anxieties,
let’s admire, in the windows, the spontaneous movement of the clouds.
In a few hours they will be water or wind, drifting away
to other valleys and shores fenced by the sea.
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
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