So... Ironically since I've been on this one post a week schedule, I've been writing a lot of poetry. I've written two poems in the past two days, and I actually wrote two poems last week but only published the latter. With this I'm going to tentatively reinstate the twice a week posts and see if I can keep it up again. Anyways, here is a poem I wrote in Spanish on Sunday night, after reading some Neruda. I haven't written a poem in Spanish in at least three years. Yay, Neruda. Yay, Spanish. I'll post a translation too.
Por cuanto soy la ciega, ¿en cuantos idiomas
Tendría que decirte que yo no veo bien?
¿En cuantos mal momentos harían palomas
Que vuelen por nada, y en nada estén?
Por cuanto soy la sorda, ¿con cuáles movimientos
Te mostraría los huecos que sin razón
Me han tratado malo? ¡Tantas son los sentimientos
Que chupan a la vida de mi corazón!
Por cuanto soy la muda, que solo pueda caer,
No tengo nada a decir a ti.
No tengo nada que podría traer,
No tengo nada por que quedarme aquí.
Translation:
Because I'm the blind one, in how many languages
Would I have to say to you that I don't see well?
In how many bad moments would there be doves
That fly for nothing, and are in nothing?
Because I'm the deaf one, with which movements
Would I show the holes that for no reason
Have treated me badly? Many are the sentiments
That suck away the life of my heart!
Because I'm the mute one, that only can fall,
I have nothing to say to you.
I have nothing that I could've brought.
I have nothing to stay here for.
Unpublished Material, ©2011 Cali Digre
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