praise the daily effort
Hi, all,
Mostly I'm writing with another translation, but I also wanted to do two other things. First, I wanted to post this picture of the cutest thing I've seen in about forever - a little farm scene that my mom is knitting for my sister A.'s baby (she's due March 11th! M. and I are very excited to be uncle & aunt). See Fig. 1 (just practicing my APA style, guys). If this thing doesn't just cheer you right up, I don't know what will.
Second, I want to celebrate my awesome trio of new girlfriends, who are helping me to stay sane (with plenty of girliness), and also making sure that I eat plenty of dessert (not that there is any danger of that not happening). We got to hang out last night and it really is encouraging to have one of those (sorry, for lack of a better phrase) "aha!" moments where you can see that you're not the only one who is a little nuts. :)
Now, to the poem. The photo isn't related unless you think about Marx (mentioned in the poem) and thus think about the estrangement of the laborer from the product of her labor, and thus think about collective and more small-scale human projects, and thus about a TINY KNITTED ORGANIC COMMUNAL FARM!! Sorry, got a little carried away there. Not sure that what Mom had in mind was to knit a Marxist utopia for the baby. Ok. Now really to the poem, by contemporary Venezuelan poet Eugenio Montejo:
GOODBYE TO THE 20TH CENTURY
Eugenio Montejo
to Alvaro Mutis
I cross Marx Street, Freud Street;
I walk through the ring of this century,
slow, sleepless, ruminating,
a pro bono spy from some gothic realm,
collecting fallen voices, small pebbles
tattooed with infinite murmuring.
Before my eyes, Mondrian's line
cuts the night into right-angled shadows
now that no more loneliness will fit
inside the glass walls.
I cross Mao Ave., Stalin Blvd.;
I witness the instant where the millennium dies
and another sprouts into its place.
My vertical, theoretical century...
My century with its wars, its post-war this and that,
its distant drumbeats of Hitler,
between blood and abyss.
I press on, passing old suburban pavements,
through misfortunes, through a little jazz,
thinking about the gods who sleep dissolved
in the sawdust of bars;
I decipher their names in passing,
and continue on my way.
ADIÓS AL SIGLO XX
Eugenio Montejo
a Alvaro Mutis
Cruzo la calle Marx, la calle Freud;
ando por una orilla de este siglo,
despacio, insomne, caviloso,
espía ad honorem de algún reino gótico,
recogiendo vocales caídas, pequeños guijarros
tatuados de rumor infinito.
La línea de Mondrian frente a mis ojos
va cortando la noche en sombras rectas
ahora que ya no cabe más soledad
en las paredes de vidrio.
Cruzo la calle Mao, la calle Stalin;
miro el instante donde muere un milenio
y otro despunta su terrestre dominio.
Mi siglo vertical y lleno de teorías...
Mi siglo con sus guerras, sus posguerras
y su tambor de Hitler allá lejos,
entre sangre y abismo.
Prosigo entre las piedras de los viejos suburbios
por un trago, por un poco de jazz,
contemplando los dioses que duermen disueltos
en el serrín de los bares,
mientras descifro sus nombres al paso
y sigo mi camino.
n.b. this poem is from a Montejo page (link), and here's another, where you can hear Montejo and others read their poems: (link). Also, Alvaro Mutis is a Colombian poet; you can read about him (here) and here's his awesome poem about (tequila).
