Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Julián Malatesta

EACH ENTRY INTO YOUR BODY

Each entry into your body
Is a new voyage into known territory.

A landscape of ancient manners
Usually welcomes me with discreet ceremony.
Nobody admits that there are flooded rivers on the road
And lava of recent eruptions boiling amongst poppies.

There are no warning signs for the fire . . .

I must precipitously go into the flames
And weaken the fire burning on the back of the beast.

A rhythmic beating of hooves is heard suddenly,
A flight of chargers stirs the air.
The hides rubbed by aborigines’ hands
Awaken the tribe.
Then we begin the gasping hunt.

But when it’s time to return, love,
You become even sweeter than during the toil.
With your hands and my hands
We’re in the habit of gently leading the animal to the stable.

Cada entrada a tu cuerpo

Cada entrada a tu cuerpo

Cada entrada a tu cuerpo
Es un viaje nuevo en territorio conocido.

Un paisaje de modales antiguos
Acostumbra a recibirme con discreta ceremonia.
Nadie admite que el camino tiene los ríos desbordados
Y que hay lava de erupciones recientes hirviendo entre amapolas.

No hay señales previstas para el fuego . . .

Debo entrar precipitadamente entre las llamas
Y apaciguar el fuego que arde en el lomo de la bestia.

Un rítmico golpe de cascos se escucha de improviso,
Una fuga de corceles agita el aire.
Los cueros sobados por manos de aborigen
Despiertan a la tribu.
Entonces iniciamos la acezante cacería.

Mas cuando llega el retorno, amor,
Advienes más dulce aún que en la faena.
Con tus manos y mis manos,
Solemos conducir al animal mansamente hacia el establo.
Close

EACH ENTRY INTO YOUR BODY

Each entry into your body
Is a new voyage into known territory.

A landscape of ancient manners
Usually welcomes me with discreet ceremony.
Nobody admits that there are flooded rivers on the road
And lava of recent eruptions boiling amongst poppies.

There are no warning signs for the fire . . .

I must precipitously go into the flames
And weaken the fire burning on the back of the beast.

A rhythmic beating of hooves is heard suddenly,
A flight of chargers stirs the air.
The hides rubbed by aborigines’ hands
Awaken the tribe.
Then we begin the gasping hunt.

But when it’s time to return, love,
You become even sweeter than during the toil.
With your hands and my hands
We’re in the habit of gently leading the animal to the stable.

EACH ENTRY INTO YOUR BODY

Each entry into your body
Is a new voyage into known territory.

A landscape of ancient manners
Usually welcomes me with discreet ceremony.
Nobody admits that there are flooded rivers on the road
And lava of recent eruptions boiling amongst poppies.

There are no warning signs for the fire . . .

I must precipitously go into the flames
And weaken the fire burning on the back of the beast.

A rhythmic beating of hooves is heard suddenly,
A flight of chargers stirs the air.
The hides rubbed by aborigines’ hands
Awaken the tribe.
Then we begin the gasping hunt.

But when it’s time to return, love,
You become even sweeter than during the toil.
With your hands and my hands
We’re in the habit of gently leading the animal to the stable.
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