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Poetry by Antonia Villamil

The Real for the Virtual: The Dreams

By Antonia Villamil
Published on LatinoLA: February 1, 2002


Poetry by Antonia Villamil


WHEN YOU LEAVE SO SUDDENLY

This poem is dedicated to the one
who died from disappearance

On the kind of morning one never forgets,
when you leave so suddenly, what is there to endure but the dark drenched
mornings?

September is lost
in the terrible luster of dust on an island where the snow, becomes the
country you fear. And the eyes, so often they taste salty showers, when you
leave so suddenly, and under every rock this anguish is in search of secret
signals of your presence.

When you leave so suddenly,
what road takes you by mistake? Where does fate register the lengthy pain?
How can the petrified palm trees and the houses not move toward you, to help
you?

Any bed or a hole on the earth
make no sense. Pillow or stone have no meaning. The closed eye mends
memories with a needle of longing but there is no thread, when you leave so
suddenly.

When you leave so suddenly,
you take morning sandals or bare feet, no shirt. The blue shorts become
generic. The wallet forgets its owner. The mirror looks at you one last time
and closes forever, impenetrable.

Suddenly --when you leave,
all things refrain in silence and a terrible secrecy bears their knotted
tongues. One knows. And knows no rest. When you disappear. When you are
taken. When there is no hope to trace the map toward your own marrow. When
one is forced to leave so sudden...


LA AUSENCIA DE PALABRAS

La ausencia de palabras nos llena oscuro planeta sin noche y nos arrastra de
lugar vac?o a lugar lleno de l?mites.

La falta de palabras nos
vac?a luna sin noche, llena
de nubladas dimensiones.

Ausencia de palabras es la lluvia de nuestro pesta?ear queri?ndose perder
cuando la carencia de palabras ilumina la contorsionada disidencia de las
cosas.

La ausencia de palabras es
nuestro rostro en la muda
displicencia de las cejas.

Nuestros brazos cruzados no en el gesto de abnegado rechazo. Nuestras manos
buscando el hueso de los codos en gesto de no tener de qu? agarrarse. De no
saber qu? adem?n sugerirle a nuestra lengua atascada con las palabras que
diremos ma?ana, cuando ya sea demasiado tarde.

Ausencia de palabras
es este parapeto en el que
nuestras lenguas sufren lejan?a.




About Antonia Villamil:
Antonieta Villamil is bilingual poet, editor and translator. International Poetry Award "Gast?n Baquero 2001" with her book Los Acantilados del Sue?o published in Madrid, Spain by Verbum Editors. E-mail: moradalsur@prodigy.net




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