POETRY

A novel – Mapocho – by Nona Fernandez (Municipal Literary Prize, 2003). In it, the author discusses the Fernandez interpretation of the historian’s mission, in the foundation process of the nation. You can discover the places of the ethnic, sexual and political minorities within the national project, and the strategies of resistance employed by these groups. The  novel, inverts the …

“The last sound of your goodbye, I told him that I knew nothing and that it was the time required to learn the why of the matter. So, between the stones I knew that sum is to unite and subtract that leaves us alone and empty. That the colors reflect the naive desire of the eye. That solfeggi and the …

“A monotonous noise does not necessarily calm. An auger not calm anyone, except perhaps the foreman. Still, it is among the monotonous noise that you have more chance of finding the calm. What is nice in the sound of the wind blowing on a forest pines, is that this noise has no edges, is round. But it has nothing to …

“Tu boca vertical me escupió oblicuo y no ha dejado tu sangre de rodar; más que en la mesa, al volcarse una botella, su dentro se derrama. Y esa sangre no puede coagular sino en mi pecho, en esa bomba músculo que llaman corazón y yo taberna. Bebo mosto de alumbramiento, negro alcohol espejo de tu ausencia. Llevo toda la …

NAO HÁ VAGAS “O preço do feijão não cabe no poema. O preço do arroz não cabe no poema. Não cabem no poema o gás a luz o telefone a sonegação do leite da carne do açúcar do pão. O funcionário público não cabe no poema com seu salário de fome sua vida fechada em arquivos. Como não cabe no …

“Viento y las nubes se deshacen; brisa y blancas se transfiguran. Hay ecos que no son de las palabras son del aliento, no nos repiten, nos convocan a escuchar lo que para decirse nos llama. Hay una hendidura en la palabra hendidura, un desgarro donde cada palabra calla, donde todo callar crea; es lo que en el decir es aliento …

“This is a restaurant like no other. Are we to believe that I do not like anyone? A tall woman beside me, beating eggs with his fingers. A traveler puts his clothes on a table and holds me head. He is wrong, I do not know any mystery, I do not even know the meaning of the word: mystery, I …

  A beautiful bird shows me the light is in his eyes, in plain view. He sings about mistletoe in the middle of the sun. Eyes singers animals and their anger or boredom songs forbade me to get out of this bed I spend my life. Dawn in countries without grace takes the appearance of oblivion. And that emotional woman …

“You said you wanted my son! You’re stupid! Water running seething in the river breaks the vortex sound you are my arms. A verse of poetry is straight oscillates in the steam that rises shaking the earth. “ (By Yukitsuna Sasaki)

  “Your eyes are an arbitrary income countries where no one has ever known what it is that a glance nor known the beauty of the eyes, beautiful stones, the drops of water, closets beads. Bare stones, without skeleton, O my statue. The blinding sun holds you place mirror and it seems to obey the evening of powers is that …