Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

It’s been more than thirty years,
it’s been more than 30,000 dead (they say) ...

It was the summer of ’74.
Peron had returned from Spain, with Isabelita
(poor midget, pale shadow,
yearning for Evita’s splendor);
Allende was jolting the status quo in Chile,
and we felt sure of ourselves,
confident, proud.
It seemed that the right to express oneself freely,
equality,
justice,
work and bread
were within everyone’s reach.
It was an epoch of hope, Argentinos,
of creativity and joy.

My companions at the university
invited me to read my poetry with them.
(Although I was a Yanqui,
my three children
were Argentine.)

Our affectionate and attentive audience
inspired us,
there, on the outskirts of Buenos Aires,
and Graciela and Susana and Haydee,
Jorge and Angel
and the rest of us
formed Poesía y Calle. Poetry and the Street.

That was when we met –
we fell so crazily in love!
And the poetry arose like bubbles,
like sea foam,
butterflying over the waves.
The days were replete with promises,
the nights with fulfilled passion.

Poesía y Calle!
Where are my companions now?
The years have passed,
bathed in dust and blood,
and the screams of the tortured
became the new political poetry.
Compañeros! Your poems,
your enthusiasm –
where are they now?

young, beautiful, brave ...
companeros, amigos,
your voices are echoes lost in time.
Where are you now?

It’s been more than thirty years,
and the dead are still to be counted.

gracias for sharing this poem, Sue!!. If you still have poems from Poesía y Calle times, post them! (if you want, of course!). I would like to read them!

Sue, me encantaria leer mas de su historias de los dias de Poesía y Calle, por favor!

Gracias por compartir este poema

Mils gracias, Arcadia y Lucy! I would love to post more of my Poesía y Calle poems -- some are political, and some are love poems. For the most part they have never been published (or presented anywhere but at that time in Buenos Aires).

Since you are both bilingual, I thought you might enjoy the following poem, which brought me a number of determined admirers ... forgive the Spanish. amigas. The poem is so full of Argentine slang I think it impossible to translate, which is probably just as well! Cariños, Sue ♥♥♥

Nunca
Poesía y Calle, 1974

¡Qué sos boludo, sabés?
Acá en tus brazos,
rebalsándome con cariño,
con ganas locas de besarte
y tocarte
y hacerte el amor
me siento como no he sentido
en tanto, tanto
tiempo.

¿Quién te dijo que no he amado antes?
¿Quién te dijo “como no he sentido
nunca?”
No, mi amor, no miento.
Ni a mí misma,
como en otras oportunidades.
No, no me engañó.
Tenés esa calidad
tan especial de recibir mi cariño,
todo ese amor que tengo
para darte,
que entro en un espiral afectivo donde
doy y recibo y doy y recibo ...
y me muero de contenta.

Tronco.
Si he sentido así
con dos hombres
ya es mucho
¿Quién te dijo que fui virgen
cuando te conocí?

Me haces burla
porque sos ignorante.
Imaginás que siempre soy así,
como ahora, contigo.
¡Qué esperanza!
Sos único,
y te quiero como único
y haces que mi amor por ti sea único.

Dejáte de joder,
y gozá.
Si me querés,
alegrate.
Lo que te doy
he dado pocas veces ...
Y tal así,
sin conflictos ni angustias,
con tranquilidad,
con esta felicidad deslumbrante,
nunca.

buenísimo!!! , (seguro que entendió, jajaja...! ). Gracias por compartir los poemas, Sue..!!!!

Sue Littleton wrote:
Dejáte de joder,
y gozá.
Si me querés,
alegrate.
Lo que te doy
he dado pocas veces ...
Y tal así,
sin conflictos ni angustias,
con tranquilidad,
con esta felicidad deslumbrante,
nunca.

Ese bolludo es un jodon, pero su poema es super entretenido!

Gracias Sue!

"Butterflying!" Now there's a bit of poetry I never heard till now. Best of times; worst of times--captured. Reminds me of my Poet Who Offended Them, but yours is made of poetry. I hope you guys realize that I know four words of Spanish. Maybe with your translations I'll get up to eight. jim

Gracias, Arcadia y Lucy! No puedo compartir esta poesía con mucha gente ahora, ¡pero que gusto hacelo con Uds.!

Jim dear, no way would we translate this poem, it is very naughty and you are too young and perhaps too innocent. (Wellll, maybe not, come to think of it.) Lucy and Arcadia were the only ones who were supposed to return to "Requiem" to pick up "Nunca," and I apologize for keeping you out of the loop by leaving the poem in Spanish. I doubt if I even have the right words to translate the slang!

Your "Poet Who Offended Them" poem was wonderful, reminded me of "Poet of the Crystal Lute," and encouraged me to post this one.

♥♥♥Sue