#poetry in translation

I have been born so much and twice as much have suffered  in the memory of here and there  -- Alejandra Pizarnik (1936 -1972),......

Like the sea-tangle, My heart is tossed by fancies. Like the early star, I must start, and search it out, Be it in the hole ......

you walk away from the names that thread the silence of things  -- Alejandra Pizarnik (1936 -1972), “To Aurora and ...

a touch of dawn on the flowers leaves me drunk on nothing and on lilac light drunk, unmoving, certain  -- Alejandra ...

some time                some time perhaps I will leave without staying                 I will leave as someone who leaves ......

We live here with one hand on our throat. That nothing is possible was already known by those who invented rains and

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My love, under the tall sky of hope Our love and our love alone Keeps dowsing for water. Sinking the well of each other, ...

“... words are nothing else than the tears Of those who wished so much to cry, but couldn’t. Bitter, so bitter are all words ...

My morning heart is like a basket filled with loam.

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In the black sun of silence words turned golden.

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My endless fall into my endless fall where nobody waited for me for when I looked at who awaited me I saw nothing but myself.

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Every hour, every day, I prefer not to speak. Everyone a wax figure and I most of all, who am more other than they. All

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Something was falling into silence. My last word was I but I meant luminous dawn.

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What does it mean to translate oneself into words ? And long term projects of perfection; daily measuring the probable

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Silence, always silence, the gold coins of sleep.

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I write with eyes shut, I write with eyes open: let the wall collapse, let the wall turn river.

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I speak with eyes closed. Someone has planted a forest of magnetic needles in my eyelids, someone guides the thread

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Only you and I, Only you and I, my love, Listen to me.

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… the soul was silent at the edge of sound

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I am your voice, the fever of your breathing, I am the reflection of your face.

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love isn’t inside bodies: bodies only tell the love.

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in your perfect fingers I am the light

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I am a new rose. My redness, wild hallucinations–

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I write against fear. Against the clawed wind dwelling on my breath.

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