I dance until the lights go out

VIERNES, JULIO 03, 2015

Júpiter, Venus, Saturno, Luna

en el espacio no existe arriba abajo

solamente

alrededor

danzo

cuarenta y un veces con las estrellas

FRIDAY, JULY 03, 2015

Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Moon

in space

it does not exist

down

up

only

around

dancing

forty-one times

with the stars

MARTES, JULIO 07, 2015

work in progress

ahora que el tiempo

me interpela

camino

intercambio

un dibujo

una esquela

el mapa de mi barrio hace un siglo:

cierro los ojos

veo lo que estuvo 

y no es nostalgia

llevo en mí la hermosa música nueva

TUESDAY, JULIO 07, 2015

work in progress

now that time

questions me

i walk

i swap

a drawing

a note

the map of my neighbourhood a century ago:

i close my eyes

i see what is gone

and it is not nostalgia

i carry within me the beauty of music

VIERNES, JULIO 10, 2015

tesoro, profundo color

piedra en mano

apretada

cambia

modifica

energía disgrega

concentración

vuela

suelta

bailo hasta que apagan la luz del lugar

la luna

río

canción que amo

no pares ya

FRIDAY, JULY 10, 2015

treasure, deep color

stone in hand

tight

changing

amending

energy disintegrates

concentration

flying

releasing

i dance until the lights go out

the moon

i flow

song that i love

please, never stop

Sincro

explicame

de este lado, la luna

allá la luna, sí

y más cerca el sol

decime

cuáles son

las olas que tocás

siento

la arena que pisás

me ves

Sync

explain to me

here, the moon

there, the moon, yes

and so close, the sun

tell me

which are

the waves you touch

i feel

the sand under your feet

you see me

Mercedes Gómez de la Cruz

Translated by Julia Enriquez and Mercedes Gómez de la Cruz

(Photo: Giselle Marino)

Mercedes Gómez de la Cruz es rosarina y nació en 1974. Publicó los libros de poemas Roca Madre (Baldíos en la Lengua Editorial, Buenos Aires, 2019), Caudal (Grito Manso Editorial, Mendoza, 2019), Tres poemas (Arroyo Leyes, 2018), Soy fiestera (2006), 100 muñecas(2004) y Lo que huye (2003). Fue parte de las antologías La Visita (Buenos Aires, 2018), Danke (Rosario, 2016), Nada que ver (Córdoba, 2012), Las 40. Poetas santafesinas 1922-1981 (2008), 19 de fondo –Poéticas de la construcción (2008) y del CDR/DVD Texturas, producido por Federico Tinivella, Germán Roffler y Alexis Cantor en el 2007. Fue fundadora y editora del sello Junco y capulí y mantiene el blog www.andromedamil.blogspot.com.

Mercedes Gómez de la Cruz was born in Rosario, Argentina in 1974. She has several books of poetry published: Roca Madre (Baldíos en la Lengua Editorial, Buenos Aires, 2019), Caudal (Grito Manso Editorial, Mendoza, 2019), Tres poemas (Arroyo Leyes, 2018), Soy fiestera (2006), 100 muñecas(2004) and Lo que huye (2003). Her poetry appeared in the anthologies La Visita (Buenos Aires, 2018), Danke (Rosario, 2016), Nada que ver (Córdoba, 2012), Las 40. Poetas santafesinas 1922-1981 (2008), 19 de fondo –Poéticas de la construcción (2008) y in CDR/DVD Texturas, produced by Federico Tinivella, Germán Roffler and Alexis Cantor in 2007. She was the publisher of Junco y capulí and she has been blogging for many years - www.andromedamil.blogspot.com.

Polaroids

polaróides

ao folhear o álbum perdido, olhando para a câmera. stills de um filme antigo

auto-retrato, jogo de aparências: atrevimento, concentração. office killer, nadadora, naïve. de pernas cruzadas, sentada na janela

já não reconhece mais as perucas, os disfarces

as imagens se desintegram. são apenas paródias, mutilações

corpos de manequins de plástico desmembrados, disformes

polaroids

while flipping over the lost album, gazing at the camera. stills from an old movie

self-portrait, a game of semblances: daring, self-communing. office killer, swimmer, naive. seated at a window, cross-legged

she no longer recognizes the wigs, the disguises

the images disintegrate. these are mere parodies, mutilations

bodies of plastic mannequins

dismembered, deformed 

Virna Teixeira

Translated by Shelly Bhoil

(Photo: Cindy Sherman. Film Still #15)

Armando Freitas Filho

Onde minha mãe acaba

comigo, e eu começo, onde

meu pai, no quarto escuro

se move sobre ela, murmura

e se altera, onde eu, de novo

despido, não esbarro, passo

no corredor estreito, entre

os dois raspando, onde ela para

e ele recomeça, onde eu cresço

onde ela espera o arremesso dele

meu, onde eu, onde ela, onde ele

onde nós, apertados, apartados, curtos

nos cruzamos, com a luz apagada?

Where my mother ends

within me, and I begin, where

my father, in a dark room

moves over her, whispers

and shifts, where I, naked

again, don’t stumble, walk through

the narrow corridor, among

the two grazing, where she stops

and he starts again, where I grow

where she waits for his hurling

mine, where I, where she, where he

where we, crumpled, divided, reduced

meet, with the lights off.

Armando Freitas Filho

translated by Flávia Rocha