Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Quote from César Vallejo, the Peruvian poet (today, March 16, is his birthday, born in 1892)

"My will veers between the point at which one is reduced to the sole desire for death and the intention of conquering the world by sword and fire."

Portrait of Vallejo by Picasso:



http://www.blythe.org/peru-pcp/newflag/ ... vallej.htm

happy-birthday-random-Vallejo-poem:

LXXI

Serpea el sol en tu mano fresca,
Y se derrama cauteloso en tu curiosidad.

Cállate. Nadie sabe que estás en mí,
toda entera. Cállate. No respires. Nadie
sabe mi merienda suculenta de unidad:
legión de oscuridades, amazonas de lloro.

Vanse los carros flagelados por la tarde,
y entre ellos los míos, cara atrás, a las riendas
fatales de tus dedos.
Tus manos y mis manos recíprocas se tienden
polos en guardia, practicando depresiones,
y sienes y costados.

Calla también, crepúsculo futuro,
y recógete a reír en lo íntimo, de este celo
de gallos ajisecos soberbiamente,
soberbiamente ennavajados
de cúpulas, de viudas mitades cerúleas.
Regocíjate, huérfano; bebe tu copa de agua
desde la pulpería de una esquina cualquiera.

(César Vallejo, Trilce)

Serpea the sun in your fresh hand,
is spilled gingerly in your curiosity.

Be quiet.
Nobody knows that you are entirely in me, entirely
Be quiet
Do not breathe.
Nobody knows my succulent afternoon snack of unity:
legion of obscurity, amazon rivers of my crying.



The cars,
They go flagellated in the afternoon,
and among them mine, backwards,
to the fatal reins of your fingers.
Your hands and my reciprocal hands
spread themselves poles on guard,
making depressions,
and temples and joined sideways.

Also silent, future twilight,
and you collect yourself to laugh intimately
of this zeal of roosters crowing proudly,
proudly enamored of domes,
of widowed azure halves.

You delight , orphan; drink your cup of water
from the little food store of any corner.

(Caesar Vallejo, Trilce)

He puts some subtle images inhere that speak to me of rebellion, of a disdain for shallow petty plastic conformity, expecially the elitist kind.

His "afternoon snack of unity" is a painted cosmology
of interbieng.

The cars, symbolic of upper class selfish materialism,
self -flagellate, also narcissism, self-congratulate, unperturbed, while he faces backwards, his lover-spirit guiding him with "the fatal reins of your fingers"
lyric earthiness contrasted,
playing hand games together.

Simple exhuberance,
delight in ordinary miricles,
unexpensive things, anticipation of twilight,
roosters crowing, up in blue half-widowed
temple domes.....
and drink in ectasy, plain water
from the little store on the corner.....

A poet for poor folk
with literate insight,
beyond expensive boredom
and shallow sentiment,
the heart is more than a pump....
it speaks voluimes when allowed to flow.

It´s specially raro to read an english translation of Vallejo.
I like the translation and yes, it´s a great poem.

It was a bit of an interpretation as well. Thanks! A strange mixture of images!!!