lunes, 1 de septiembre de 2014

Max Ernst

Alemania-Francia (1891-1976)


La ville pétrifiée, 1933 (Manchester City Galleries)

viernes, 29 de agosto de 2014

Joseph Cornell

USA (1903–1972)


Untitled (Ship with Nude), 1964-1966

miércoles, 27 de agosto de 2014

Arthur F. Kales

USA (1882-1936)


The 39 Steps, 1922

martes, 19 de agosto de 2014

Dahlia Ravikovitch

Israel (1936-2005)

foto: Dina Gona



The Fruit of the Land

a farewell song to the good old days


You asked if we've got enough cannons
They laughed and said: More than enough
and we've got new improved anti-tank missiles
and bunker busters to penetrate
double-slab reinforced concrete
and we've got crates of napalm and crates of explosives,
unlimited quantities, cornucopias,
a feast for the soul, like some finely seasoned delicacy
and above all, that secret weapon,
the one we can't talk about.
Calm down, man,
the intel officer and the C.O.
and the border police chief
who's also a colonel in that hush-hush commando unit
are all primed for the order: Go!
and everything's shined-up like the skin of a snake
and we've got chocolate wafers on every base
and grape juice and Tempo soda
and that's why we won't give in to terror
we will not fold in the face of violence
we'll never fold, no matter what
'cause our billy clubs are nice and hard.
God, who has chosen us from all the nations,
comforteth with apples
the fighting arm of the IDF
and the iron boxes and the crates of fresh explosives
and we've got cluster bombs too,
though of course that's off the record.
Serve us bourekas and cake, O woman of the house,
for we were slaves in the land of Egypt
but never again,
and blot out the remembrance of Amalek
if you can track him down, and if you seek him in vain,
blessed be the tiny match
that a soldier in some crack unit will suddenly strike
and set off the whole bloody mess.




translated by Chana Bloch and Chana Kronfeld

sábado, 16 de agosto de 2014

La Girola

Chile

lunes, 11 de agosto de 2014

William Burroughs

USA (1914-1997)

domingo, 10 de agosto de 2014

Franck De Las Mercedes

Nicaragua-USA (1972)


calm

sábado, 9 de agosto de 2014

Alejandro Bustos

Argentina (1984)



Como la rosa estrella que habita en el centro de la piel, fruto que ilumina la hora más dulce, el nuevo encuentro.
¿Dónde está la nocturna paz si no es en los ojos de quien brilló en la perla-cúpula del venturoso deseo?
El aliento de la luna escribe su oración primera, roja y profunda entre los jardines de luz, como una herida eterna.



http://florecenlosnardos.blogspot.com.ar/

jueves, 7 de agosto de 2014

Alejandra Pizarnik

Argentina (1936-1972)



Te hablo

estoy con pavura.
hame sobrevenido lo que más temía.
no estoy en dificultad:
estoy en no poder más.

no abandoné el vacío y el desierto.
vivo en peligro.

tu canto no me ayuda.
cada vez más tenazas,
más miedos,
más sombras negras.

sábado, 12 de julio de 2014

Cormac McCarthy

USA (1933)






They trekked out along the crescent sweep of beach, keeping to the firmer sand below the tidewrack. They stood, their clothes flapping softly. Glass floats covered with a gray crust. The bones of seabirds. At the tide line a women mat of weeds and the ribs of fishes in their millions stretching along the shore as far as eye could see like an isocline of death. One vast salt sepulchre. Senseless. Senseless.



The Road, New York: Vintage International, 2006, p. 222

lunes, 7 de julio de 2014

Gonçalo Tavares

Angola/Portugal (1970)




O FUTURO sai da FENDA e da FERIDA

a geometria abre a linha para deixar passar a Imaginação.
O FUTURO sai da FENDA e da FERIDA.
Do que antes foi, hoje sai Sangue.
Inundar o VAZIO: o FUTURO inunda o VAZIO.
Porque todo o vazio tem por INIMIGO a Imaginação.
Porque todo o vazio tem o Inimigo.



Investigações. Novalis.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


EL FUTURO sale de la HENDIDURA y de la HERIDA

la geometría abre la línea para dejar pasar la Imaginación.
EL FUTURO sale de la HENDIDURA y de la HERIDA.
De lo que antes fue, hoy sale Sangre.
Inundar el VACÍO: el FUTURO inunda el VACÍO.
Porque todo vacío tiene por ENEMIGO la Imaginación.
Porque todo vacío tiene ENEMIGO.


viernes, 4 de julio de 2014

e. e. cummings

USA (1894–1962)





somehwere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands


miércoles, 2 de julio de 2014

clavel del aire

Tillandsia albertiana

viernes, 27 de junio de 2014

Félix-Jacques Moulin

Francia (1802-1875)

Female Nude, 1856

jueves, 26 de junio de 2014

Adrian Belew

USA (1949)





Young Lions


Hot tribal night
underneath fluorescent skies-
bonfires rage strange
wild waving shouting Picasso faces.

In the guise of a lioness
the wind kisses her burning dress
you can fell her animal eyes
you can hear them cry,
"Be the jewel around my neck,
never a tear on my burning dress"

Lying, paralyzed,
a brave prey who lays dying
and is surrounded by angry spirits
hunters, guns, drums, and elephants.

Why is this night quiet?
Filled with trees filled with eyes
as she prowls around my feet
she throws back her head dress and cries,
"Now you will be mine,
be my young lion"

Why is this night quiet?
Why the trees filled with eyes?
As she prowls around my feet
she throws back her head dress and cries,
"Be my young lion"




Young Lions, 1990

miércoles, 25 de junio de 2014

Constantine P. Cavafy

(Grecia) Egipto (1863-1933)



Cuerpo, recuerda...


Cuerpo, recuerda no sólo cuánto fuiste amado,
no sólo las camas en las que te acostaste,
sino también esos deseos brillando abiertamente
en ojos que te miraban,
temblando por ti en voces--
sólo algún obstáculo azaroso los frustró.
Ahora que está todo finalmente en el pasado,
parece casi como si te entregaras
a esos deseos también-- cómo brillaban,
recuerda, en ojos que te miraban,
recuerda, cuerpo, cómo temblaban por ti en esas voces.





versión en inglés de Edmund Keeley & George Savidis, C.P.Cavafy. Collected Poems, Princeton University Press, 1980

lunes, 23 de junio de 2014

serendipity

sábado, 21 de junio de 2014

The Handsome Family

USA




Far From Any Road

From the dusty may sun her looming shadow grows
Hidden in the branches of the poison creosote.

She twines her spines up slowly towards the boiling sun,
And when I touched her skin, my fingers ran with blood.

In the hushing dusk, under a swollen silver moon,
I came walking with the wind to watch the cactus bloom.

A strange hunger haunted me; the looming shadows danced.
I fell down to the thorny brush and felt a trembling hand.

When the last light warms the rocks and rattlesnakes unfold,
Mountain cats will come to drag away your bones.

And rise with me forever across the silent sand,
And the stars will be your eyes and the wind will be my hands.


Singing Bones, 2003

viernes, 20 de junio de 2014

Matthew McConaughey

USA (1969)


True Detective, 2014

jueves, 19 de junio de 2014

Sarah Lucas

UK (1962)


Self-portrait with eggs, 1996