Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Sunday, December 14, 2008

El Otro Cielo



Following Cortázar, or, more properly, not following Cortázar, for who needs to follow Cortázar--a state of mind, perhaps, more than a place--wandering through the dusty arcades--el Pasaje Güemes, o La Galerie Vivienne--as if the details of a French metropolis could be somehow transposed onto the waiting breast of Buenos Aires...

Rather a morning, with three crows...

Friday, December 12, 2008

The Commisar of Fowl



A barnyard in Smolensk, the thick Russian autumn--muddy paths, windy trees. A brown cast to the air--as if mushrooms were melting, gryby--an essential word, from the soil, ancient Slavic rites, behold.

Kampinos, the forest just outside of Warszawa. Half an hour on a commuter train, a refuge during the war. We met there once--also for mushrooms. Grzyby. Again, those same sounds, the "g" from down below, then softened--"rz"--made hesitant, ambiguous...

Jeszcze Polska...

Monday, December 8, 2008

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Piedra y Camino



Es mi destino
Piedra y camino
De un sueño lejano y bello, viday
Soy peregrino.

(Atahualpa Yupanqui)

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Zamba del Grillo



A los cerros tucumanos - Into the hills of Tucumán
me llevaron los caminos - the roads have taken me
y me trajeron de vuelta - and they've brought back to me
sentires que nunca se harán olvido. - feelings that will never be forgotten

Un grillo feliz llenaba - A cricket, happy, was pouring out
su canto de azul y enero - his song of January blue
y al regresar a los llanos - and on returning to the plains
yo le iba diciendo mi adiós al cerro. - I went along telling him of my farewell to the hills.

Como ese grillo del campo, - And like this cricket of the fields
que solitario cantaba, - who was singing all alone
así perdida en la noche - lost in the night
también era un grillo, viday mi zamba. - My zamba, viday, was also a cry
Así perdida en la noche se va mi zamba, palomitay. - And so, palomitay, lost in the night, goes my song...

A los cerros tucumanos - Into the hills of Tucumán
he vuelto en un triste invierno, - I have returned, in the sadness of wintertime
tan solo el monte y el río - So alone, enveloped in my pain,
envuelto en mis penas pasar me vieron. - the mountain and the river, they saw me pass by...

La luna alumbraba el canto, - The moon illuminated the song
del grillo junto al camino, - of the cricket, joined with the road,
y yo con sombra en el alma - and I with a shadow in my soul
pensaba en la ausencia del bien perdido. - thought of the absence of goodness gone...

Atahualpa Yupanqui

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Mufiña

Lucio Viejo Este



¿Queréis un ejemplo para meditar? Ahí está Rusia.

Cuéntase que Gogol le leía una vez a su amigo Pousckine un capítulo de las "Almas Muertas," y que el poeta no acertaba a decir por toda crítica sino: "Dios, como nuestra Rusia, está triste." No ha tenido la Republica Argentina, pueblo de ayer, intérpretes tan expresivos. Su alma joven estaba en pena. Pero sentía vagamente que aquella existencia era intolerable, y que hora más hora menos sus dolores cesarían. Dios estaba triste como ella, y aunque hasta su tristeza tuviera que ser disimulada, la hora del rescate se acercaba.

Lucio V. Mansilla, Rozas, p. 110

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Madre (aunque la luz...)



"Aunque la luz nos vea morír..."

(Jorge Cafrune, de "No quiero ver el sol," versión mexicana)

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Chacho Peñalosa



"Naides, más que naides, y menos que naides"

Friday, July 11, 2008

Tal vez una tucumana



Senditas las de mi tierra,
Caminito del tafí,
Tal vez una tucumana,
Bailando esta zamba, se acuerde de mí.

(de Atahualpa Yupanqui, "Adios Tucumán)

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Ven Cariño Mío



"No quiero ver el sol," Jorge Cafrune (Versión Mexicana)

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Quebrada (Las Viejas)



25 June 2008. Beautiful gray morning, chilly wind, birch tree branches on dark window.

Milton Resnick: I'm not older than anyone else and I'm not younger than anyone else. Blunt formulations from the hand of a master...standing before an acre of canvas on his light loft wall, so wide he couldn't see the ends, only tubes of white, a hundred at a time... throwing each new tube on the floor, stepping on it to open, dipping in again with the brush...

The brush, en todo sentido. To brush her cheek, to brush with fate. Gates of heaven opening in a Jujuy quebrada, la musica de la montaña, vigüela, charango, peludo... A small creature with a hard shell, soft to the inside, rolling itself into a tight ball when threatened...

Fears, ungathered. Time, change, lo necesario...

Four women--las viejas--climbing a hillside path. Heavy skirts, shawls, goods carried in cloths wound round the waist. Humuhuaca, maybe--centuries ago...

La noche del peludero...

Monday, June 23, 2008

Puente Alsina



Not the old Puente Alsina, of course. In some sense not even me: awkward, slightly hopeful even. A touch espantoso. Images of the Riachuelo, idealized--always so--as in drawings of old. Today, not so much asphalt as total urban ruin--lagrimas negras verdaderas...

Yet also a song...

¿Dónde está mi barrio, mi cuna querida?
¿Dónde la guarida, refugio de ayer?
Borró el asfaltado, de una manotada,
la vieja barriada que me vio nacer...

(fragmento de un tango)

Sunday, June 22, 2008

José Larralde



En una escena enorme, oscura, ya que se ve un hombre solo, al pie, la mano adelante...alcanzando para...

"Puntillas de auroras tristes..."

Tuesday, June 17, 2008