Poems by Lilia Gutiérrez Riveros - COLOMBIA

03 September 2019
Author :  

Lilia Gutiérrez Riveros:

Macaravita, Colombia. Poet, ensayist and narrator. Chemist, biologic and profesor of a university. Poetical sworks: With the wing of the time, Ediciones Tercer Mundo, Bogotá, 1985; Letter to Nora Böring and other poems, Bogotá, 1994; The fourth leaf a clover, Bogotá, 1997; Intervals, Bogotá, 2005; To let steps, Caza de Libros, Ibagué, 2011; Inventories, Bogotá, 2013; Symphyny of the world, poem complete, Arte Poética Press, New York, 2014. Some of those poems were translated into English, French, Portuguese, german, Italian and Chinese. She was included in anthologies and critical studies. She awqrded the first world concurse of ecopoetry, 2010. Valerio Valentin (novel), Babel Books Inc, New York, 2012, second edition Editorial Atenea, Bogotá, 2014; Double cronssing (novel), Educar Editores, Bogotá,2017; Casilda’s house (novel) JustFiction Edition, Lituania, 2019. The July’s elves, Chritsmas tale, el Palatino, Bogotá, 2013. Ambassador of peace fron the universal Ambassadors of peace herld in Paris and Geneva. Founder ant President of the Fuondation of Poetry without frontiers.

 

 

POCKET PLANET

I survey the lengthening of a sigh

And feel that we're entitled

To a world without garbage,

Smokeless and deprived of weapons.

 

I feel the urge for a pocket planet

To stroll upon it barefoot,

Unhurried and without schedules,

A planet with the smell of simple life

To plant embraces and utopias;

A planet to be shared

With trees and deer,

Caterpillars, butterflies and dolphins;

A planet with seas of medusas and crustaceans

And the migrations from arctic flights

As far as the Indian Ocean.

 

I survey the lengthening of a sigh

And protect inside the pocket

My planet of forests and mangrove swamps,

Voiceless in the air, peaceful in the cities;

A planet whose people have green conscience,

Their hands determined to improve life

And a soaring heart bursting by the edge of night.

(Translated from the original in Spanish by Andres Berger Kiss)

 

 

The fourth leaf of the clover

 

The death is absent of water

that in the green

discovers the lines of dawn.

 

The fourth leaf of the clover.

 

We must go to the death

As we got to the kiss of the first love.

 

We must go

barefoot

And with a bathing suit.

 

The death is absent

of Amazona’s air

two syllables in Kuechuan

 

and aztec’s God

 

a Caribbean virtue

and the heart

full of disappointments.

 

In a change

our families

run into precipices

ambiguous streets

and absurd cities.

 

Friends

 

We must go to the death

as a Sunday’s morning

barefoot to the beach.

 

 

Translated by Alcy Gutiérrez from the original in Spanish

 

 

A dream of the clam

 

Nobody could judge me

For obstinately spy the side of your soul

And to become in the spirit

Of the air to touch you.

 

To shorten the distances

in order to imprison you into my arms

and like a dream of a clam

to join your picture

with Wagner’s obsessions.

 

For turning your steps aside and to guide you

where the bewitches play.

 

For taking your indifference with me

to the heart of a beach

and to invade all the galaxies

with your name.

 

to be quite honest

there is a voice inside me

that surprises

the summit of a night

my night of suffocate cries.

 

Translated by Alcy Gutiérrez from the original in Spanish

 

 

The fountain

 

With cristal trickle

the sprout design

the future petals.

 

Upon the sound

the paint brush is firmed

that touches the syllables repeatedly.

 

The lichen

initiate the rock

with delicate veils.

 

A guide picks up

the son of the grottos

inside of the drops

begins the ritual that drills

the earth and covers the stones.

 

As a guardian

from one side to the other side

the foliage spreads

its fragrance till the valley.

 

A few leaves

initiate their acrobatics dance

in the middle of the fountain.

 

Meanwhile

door to door

the bees dstribute

messages of love.

 

Translated by Alcy Gutiérrez from the original in Spanish

 

 

Beig southern

 

It’s rare not to have neighbours

not race, not town for wlking.

 

The river is missed

an the cocomuts palm

guard the ways.

 

In this point of the world

empty expressions wandering

between the cold and absence.

 

For that reason.

The south is missed

being southering is a way

that the life is breath.

To be southering is lookin slowly

And share adages

Not to talk alone and enjoy

The wind that play with faces.

 

The coffe’s aroma

Invites you to drink orange juice.

 

And then

The work invade the day

And renew us in the memory’s afternoon.

 

This is not my land

but here, I’m looking for may destination

I’m learning how to stress the words again

even the river calls me

the taste of tropic

the sound of a cumbia

and the smiles of people

here, in this land

I initiated to let my steps

 

Translated by Alcy Gutiérrez from the original in Spanish

 

 

Contemplation


When the light goes away  

the sky is cleared.

 

Venus imposes its brightness

on the angle of Neptune awake.

 

In the birthplace of stars

the Moon beats the journey of time.

 

When the light goes away

the wind carries

messages that bristle the skin.  

 

Bliss grows in the eyes

and the agility of cats

in their appointments of roofs.

When the light goes away

the faces meet

and the hands prolong the looks.

 

When the light goes

away I have the stars.    

 

Translated by Alonso Quintín Gutiérrrez

 

 

ROUND OF THE SOUNDS

 

I.

 

The Pentagram of the Sun

began the choir of light beams

 

and Kepler's Laws

still nameless girls

they sang the deliro of the stars.

 

Star rounds

celebrate the dream of the sun.

 

Sounds arrived

and they drank wine

In the party of love.

 

Words were born

and they multiplied

they spread through the void

and the abyss

and the bends

and sang a song

to the ear of the firmament

and the whole atmosphere was impregnated.

 

II

Lovers look

The whitest cloud.

 

There they decorate their castle

from there they drink fresh fruit

to feed their winter.

 

Lovers keep

in their favorite safe

The exact timbre of the sounds.

 

Translated by Alonso Quintín Gutiérrrez

 

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