Four Poems by Ingrid Valencia

Translated by Jack Little

 

Intact

Certainty is the skin reflected in the water
They are the hands that sail in the deep
until one denies the horizon
sitting on the white stone of old age

There is still time to nominate
under the mountain
the light that leaks in the powder

Trees shooting
begin to color the landscape
of sharp cracks and veins in the night

The city is repeated
with her constellation of hostile eyes
denying the pulse of the sun at the temples

also
dawn
remains intact
against the sea.

The Rails of the body

We suppose that it is true. One leaves
home, watches faces
on the bridge
or the avenue. Someone sleeping in the car
One listens. And we all go secretly

we sign keloids
riddles
hastily crossing their eyes

Very soon we burn
between tar and moth filled evenings

The monologues on the rails of the body
leave behind a sound that falls
in the absences that accumulate
somewhere

The place to where you will arrive
with a swollen pocket
and an empty hand.

Übermensch

I await the rain, the door

and the sound of light

like those of today

from which I see

I will leave my belongings

Here I deposit the moment

watching without return

This crucifix vanishes

together with our hands.

The misery of the fixed

Days. Internal landscapes

converge in the crystal river

of the everyday crust

Prolong the light

in the only port under eyelids

The dementia

leads to a tunnel

toward the sulfur

the  intoxication.

 

Ingrid Valencia was born in Mexico City, on February 26, 1983. In 2005, she founded the cultural magazine La Manzana. Her work has been compiled in anthologies and in magazines and she is the author of the poetry collection The Endless Shadow (Literalia Publishers, 2009)

 

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