Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Poetry Life & Times at Artvilla.com. His numerous appearances include Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Honest Ulsterman, Cratera No 3 and Aquillrelle’s Best. His publications are collected poems All the Babble of the Souk,Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals & Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems. A translation from Spanish of poems by Guadalupe Grande Key of Mist and Carmen Crespo Tesserae, the award winning (X111 Premio César Simón De Poesía), in November 2017 these works were presented in a live performance at The International Writer’s Conference hosted by the University of Leeds. UK. A forthcoming publication of collected poems Off the Menu is expected in 2020
All the Babble of the Souk, Cartoon Molecules and Next Arrivals, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae, a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
all these years on
& i've given up on reflections
such as the origins of human madness
the limits of what we are beyond our controle
& suddenly as often happens nowadays
i flashback to a dangerous rushing stream
tumbling & cold i remember
the water is green white deep
a slither of a stripped tree trunk straddles
the sheer sided banks
a few strides & a skip
to cross which all in the bleak grey stone village
must old or young strong weak or sick
to enter onto its sparse barren ground
i am alone i see no one
even the tree spar looks slippery shiny
bent with an undersway to the tug of the flow
a fatal slip & i'm gone i could go on
but i cross
a few strides & a skip
i come to the first stone dwelling place
the ground is hard & arid i pass the front dyke space
to enter without a door
the burnt earthen floor room in its dim half light
i don't remember how
there's what looks like a built up large sink
made of stone & shingle & in it half submerged
in clear cold water small white turnips
it's his only fare we stare at each other
he is tall thin gaunt with long white hair & beard
clad in a brown home spun gown & cord sandals
he goes to the sink & offers me a soaked turnip
is this me in another life time could i live
this life day in day out
tonight i will sleep out for i cannot stay
we have not spoken a word
i eat the turnip his only nourishment
& leave as suddenly as i came to a memory
which now hinges on a dream as though
a desert wind should move a dune where
you wake to find what you left behind is beyond you still
Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Poetry Life & Times at Artvilla.com. His numerous appearances include Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Honest Ulsterman, Cratera No 3 and Aquillrelle’s Best. His publications are collected poems All the Babble of the Souk,Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals & Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems. A translation from Spanish of poems by Guadalupe Grande Key of Mist and Carmen Crespo Tesserae, the award winning (X111 Premio César Simón De Poesía), in November 2017 these works were presented in a live performance at The International Writer’s Conference hosted by the University of Leeds. UK. A forthcoming publication of collected poems Off the Menu is expected in 2020
approach approach approach
alone in my heart
let the day sail away
i shall stay in exaltancy
the dust track leads
nowhere in twilight she disrobes
anywhere's a gradient nowhere
dawn is like this stray dog
two years ago crying somewhere
they had bulldozed afraid lost
their way through this
the local alcalde believed
the dust track it would improve the economy
little did he know elephants return to the wilderness
wilderness wilderness wilderness leads nowhere
in exaltancy
at great heights
at twilight
the grandeur of the boulders she disrobes
hovering upon the hillside alone in my heart
approach approach approach
will hurtle down to unfathomble
the day sails depths
now extends their itness
as we approach approach approach
Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Poetry Life & Times at Artvilla.com. His numerous appearances include Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Honest Ulsterman, Cratera No 3 and Aquillrelle’s Best. His publications are collected poems All the Babble of the Souk,Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals & Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems. A translation from Spanish of poems by Guadalupe Grande Key of Mist and Carmen Crespo Tesserae, the award winning (X111 Premio César Simón De Poesía), in November 2017 these works were presented in a live performance at The International Writer’s Conference hosted by the University of Leeds. UK. A forthcoming publication of collected poems Off the Menu is expected in 2020
He knew not, he said, whether he was a butterfly
who awoke to find he was a man
or a man who awoke to find he was a butterfly.
To begin in the image, he kills for in his dreams
he wakes from half forgotten
to the commotion of the day sealed by a story.
To begin in the image, a view before the abyss
from old familiar haunts
what clings, where there’s neither choice nor chance
yet beckons, to the impossible impasse.
The Breach.
Wu Ch Eng En descends
the mountain of the five elements
bearing the moon as his lamp
forever grows longer, he muses
leaving no footprints in the snow.
At daybreak the view is emptiness
the truth of truth is its lie, he muses
to a lamp without a night.
Wu Ch Eng En rested
to speak with the world on emptiness.
He looked at the village’s railings
their fierce barbs pointing to the sky
between which shadows peered
as if to promise through tricks of light
Mystery but revealing only bondage
to landscapes in whose labyrinths
you could believe you were in a place
you’d never left
where to return was just deception.
Must not you and i be inside emptiness
for we cannot both be outside
but the world made no reply
lost to a fleeting memory
that may never return or may.
Wu Ch Eng En said
Day dreams the wandering mind
as lonely as a cloud, flower and song
but not without blood
the lifeless, Terra-Cota army
marches over our groundless days
outwards from the tomb.
Nature Thrives on Deception.
Chuang Tze perched
on his usual precipice and reflected
on to suicide or not to suicide.
He recalled he had worn a dark suit
dark glasses, returned
on a crowded summer’s night to a past
whose memories
he could no longer remember
there he had sown his wild seed
what had they come to now
but the way of all nothingness.
There are those who maintain
creation is a purposeless drift
those who maintain its entelechy
can simulate a deity of divine attributes.
Chuang Tze rocked to, fro
would not such deities grow perplexed
about their state of affairs
traces of white fleece trailed
across that blue emptiness called the sky
thus in that fall
from that exalted simulation
believe they were immortal souls.
Chuang Tze said
Even the wind is flawed
as it speaks through the leaves of trees
the moment of history.
Now caught in time evermore
yet the leaves belong to the branches
to make small patterns in infinity.
And we, where do we belong
with our swan song, as if we were going home
the day after tomorrow.
*(in homage to Ezra)
Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Poetry Life & Times at Artvilla.com. His numerous appearances include Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Honest Ulsterman, Cratera No 3 and Aquillrelle’s Best. His publications are collected poems All the Babble of the Souk,Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals & Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems. A translation from Spanish of poems by Guadalupe Grande Key of Mist and Carmen Crespo Tesserae, the award winning (X111 Premio César Simón De Poesía), in November 2017 these works were presented in a live performance at The International Writer’s Conference hosted by the University of Leeds. UK. A forthcoming publication of collected poems Off the Menu is expected in 2020
Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Poetry Life & Times at Artvilla.com. His numerous appearances include Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Honest Ulsterman, Cratera No 3 and Aquillrelle’s Best. His publications are collected poems All the Babble of the Souk,Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals & Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems. A translation from Spanish of poems by Guadalupe Grande Key of Mist and Carmen Crespo Tesserae, the award winning (X111 Premio César Simón De Poesía), in November 2017 these works were presented in a live performance at The International Writer’s Conference hosted by the University of Leeds. UK. A forthcoming publication of collected poems Off the Menu is expected in 2020
This work comprises in an excerpt from the anthology on contemporary Spanish female poets entitled Las Diosas Blancas. Madrid, 1985. Copyright Ed. Ramon Buenaventura. Hiperion. This is an original and unpublished English version of the original poem written in Spanish. Translators Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospide would like to thank Casa del Traductor, in Tarazona and the British Literary Translation Association, East Anglia University Campus.
From this Spanish anthology –compiled by the well-known scholar and translator Mr. Ramón Buenaventura, whom we contacted earlier– a few selected authors were chosen for our joint translation work: Amalia Iglesias: Te buscare para decirte (I Will Find You To Tell You) , Ana Rossetti: Triunfo de Artemis sobre Volupta (Triumph Of Artemis Over Volupta) and Isolda (Isolda) , Blanca Andreu: Para Olga (For Olga) , Isla Correyero: Los Pajaros (Small Birds), Amparo Amoros: Midas (Midas) and Criaturas del gozo (Creatures Of Joy) , Rosalia Vallejo: Horno en llamarada (A Furnace In Flames) , Maria del Carmen Pallares: Sisargas (Sisargas), Margarita Arroyo: Era el mar lejos del mar ( It Was Sea Away From Sea).
We would like to thank Mr. Ramón Buenaventura and the above name poets, in advance, and let them rest assured that their work is protected by a legal Creative Commons Licence, by virtue of which the above named translators are willing to provide excerpts from their original translation work, provided that readers agree to use it under the terms of such licence. We strongly recommend reading the entire work and the poets’, who have continued evolving during these decades.
For Olga
Girl of delicately golden tresses,
girl obsession of the virgin stork
with tufts of damask feathers
that splashed death,
of the crazy stork with wings
of golden strychnine
which flew off leaving you with a corporeal perfume,
a neat smell of lilacs, already golden and rude dreams.
Girl who obeyed the apostle scops owl
and the murky look of real eyes,
with puerile drawings of Selene and the rest.
Girl of non-existent concert,
girl of cruel sonatines and malevolent books by Tom Wolfe,
or witch lace to bandage wounded deer ulcers,
of fallow deer gazing from mystical knolls,
or places like that.
Pluperfect girl, girl we never were,
tell it now,
tell it now, you, now that it’s so late,
spell out the sombre tempo,
spell me the tear
the purple silhouette of the mare,
the foal that lay at your feet waking up foam.
Abandoned recite the words of yesteryear,
shadow of Juan Ramón: Solitude, I am true to you.
Scornful recite the words of yesteryear,
but not that courtly verse,
don’t talk of queens white as a lily,
snow and Joan burning
and interwoven melancholy
of dear Villon,
speak clear verbs where you can drink the saddest liquid,
jars of sea and relief, now that it is already so late,
raise your tiny voice and summon up the song:
tell life that I remember her,
I remember her.
This small death is definitely lost in a nascent forest,
the shoot of an arrested comet,
that nobody saves
young volcano of novice gust and bones
made of bird, eyelid and thinking wave
that no stella book
no book painted with Italien solar gold,
no book of lava
will seal for me.
And so death so many times written
becomes radiant,
and i can talk
of desire and the unseeing beam of the lighthouse,
of the chimerical corpse of the crew.
And so death
becomes the story
of that mute girl who hanged herself
with boreal harp’s strings
because of nuptial poison on her tongue.
I definitely get lost cradling litters of rare epitaphs,
girl of golden tresses,
I will tell life that you remember her,
I will tell death that you remember her
that you remember their lines conjuring your shadow,
that you remember their habits and tempo solo,
bitter laurel, deep bramble, brazen error and sorrowful hordes,
while Ephesian cats are crying at my feet,
while lost silver cats
go curdling their ancestry in genealogical cypress and poplar,
I will tell life to remember you,
to remember me
now,
when I rise with loops and hair strings
up to the disaster of my head
up to the disaster of my twenty years,
up to the disaster, lammergeier light.
De una niña de provincias que se vino a vivir en un Chagall, 1980
Para Olga
Niña de greyes delicadamente doradas,
niña obsesión de la cigüeña virgen
con mechones de plumas de damasco
que salpicaban muerte,
de la cigüeña loca con alones
de estricnina dorada
que viajaba dejándote un corpóreo perfume,
un pulcro olor a lilas, ya dorados y rudos sueños.
Niña que obedeció al autillo apóstol
y a la mirada turbia de los ojos reales,
con pueriles dibujos de Selene y demás.
Niña de inexistente concierto,
niña de crueles sonatinas y malévolos libros de Tom Wolfe,
o de encajes de brujas para vendar las llagas de los corzos heridos,
de ciervos vulnerados asomados en los oteros místicos,
en los sitios así.
Niña pluscuamperfecta, niña que nunca fuimos,
dilo ahora,
dilo ahora tú, ahora que es tan tarde,
pronuncia el torvo adagio,
pronúnciame la lágrima,
la silueta morada de la yegua,
la del potro que se tendió a tus pies despertando la espuma.
Declama abandonada las palabras de antaño,
sombra de Juan Ramón: Soledad, te soy fiel.
Declama desdeñosa las palabras de antaño,
pero no aquella estrofa cortesana,
no hables de reinas blancas como un lirio,
nieves y Juana ardiendo,
y la melancolía entretejida
del querido Villon,
sino los verbos claros donde poder beber el líquido más triste,
jarros de mar y alivio, ahora que ya es tarde,
alza párvula voz y eco albacea y canta:
Dile a la vida que la recuerdo,
que la recuerdo.
Definitivamente se extravía en un bosque naciente esta muerte pequeña,
el brote del cometa detenido,
esto que nadie salva,
joven volcán de huesos y ráfaga novicia
hecha de pájaro y de párpado y de ola pensante
que ningún libro estela,
ningún libro estofado de oro solar de Italia,
ningún libro de lava
viene a sellar por mí.
Y así la muerte tantas veces escrita
se me vuelve radiante,
y puedo hablar
del deseo y del lacre rubio y ciego en los faros,
del cadáver quimera de la tripulación.
Y así la muerte
se convierte en historia
de aquella niña muda que se ahorcó
con las cuerdas boreales del arpa
porque tenía en la lengua un veneno nupcial.
Definitivamente me extravío acunando camadas de raros epitafios,
niña de grey dorada,
diré a la vida que la recuerdas,
diré a la muerte que la recuerdas,
que recuerdas sus líneas conjurando tu sombra,
que recuerdas sus hábitos y su carácter solo,
su laurel ácido, su profunda zarza, su descarado error y sus hordas dolidas,
mientras gatos efesios van llorando a mis pies,
mientras gatas perdidas plateadas
van cuajando su alcurnia en ciprés genealógico y en álamo,
diré a la vida que te recuerde,
que me recuerde,
ahora,
cuando me alzo con cuerdas capilares y bucles
hasta el desastre de mi cabeza,
hasta el desastre de mis veinte años,
hasta el desastre, luz quebrantahuesos.
“De una niña de provincias que se vino a vivir en un Chagall”1980
AUTHOR: BLANCA ANDREU (1959)
Bibliography:
– De una niña de provincias que se vino a vivir en un Chagall (awarded the 1980 Adonais International Poetry Prize) (Ediciones Rialp, Madrid, 1981).
– Báculo de Babel (awarded the Fernando Rielo International Poetry Prize) (Hiperión, Madrid, 1983).
– Elphistone (Visor Libros, Madrid, 1988)
– El sueño oscuro: (poesía reunida, 1980-1989) (Hiperión, Madrid, 1994).
Blanca Andreu (born 1959 A Coruña) is a Spanish poet. She grew up in Orihuela, where her family still resides, and attended El Colegio de Jesus-Maria de San Agustin, followed by studies in philology in Murcia. At age 20, she moved to Madrid without formally completing her education. Here, she met Francisco Umbral, who introduced her to the literati of the city.
In 1980, she was awarded the Premio Adonáis de Poesía for her work entitled, De una niña de provincias que se vino a vivir en un Chagall. Her use of surrealism is considered the beginning of the Post-Modern Generation. Her later work has tried to shy away from the surrealist tendencies of her early pieces.[2]
In 1985, she married novelist Juan Benet. After he died in 1993, she returned to La Coruña where she now lives a semi-reclusive life.
Awards
1980: Premio Adonáis de Poesía
1981: Premio de Cuentos Gabriel Miró
1982: Premio Mundial de Poesía Mística, Fernando Rielo
1982: Premio Ícaro de Literatura
2001: Premio Internacional de Poesía Laureà Mela
Translators:
Amparo Arrospide (Argentina) is a poet and translator. She has published seven poetry collections, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinación en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pañuelos de usar y tirar, Presencia en el Misterio,En el Oido del Viento, Hormigas en Diáspora , Jaccuzzi, and Valle Tiétar, as well as poems, short stories and articles on literary and film criticism in anthologies and in both national and foreign magazines. She has received numerous awards.
All the Babble of the Souk, Cartoon Molecules and Next Arrivals, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae, a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
The spotted hyena aka the laughing hyena both male and female genitals are strikingly similar
Natural History Pliny the Elder (A.D. 23-79) ab uno animali sepulchra erui inquisitione corporum
– it was more jackals that were prone to digging bodies out of shallow graves and eating them Robert Graves White Goddess – The Jackals, sacred to Anubis, Guardian of the Dead, because they fed on corpse like flesh and had mysterious nocturnal habits.
the hyena is of feline descent
hyenas were hermaphrodites bearing both male and female organs Aristotle declared in the Historia animalium “this is untrue.”
medieval bestiaries drew a moral lesson from the depravity of beasts excluded from Noah’s ark in 1614 God had only saved the purely bred hyenas were reconstituted after the flood through the unnatural union of a dog and cat
female hyenas virtually indistinguishable from males their clitoris enlarged and extended to form an organ of the same size shape and position as the male penis can also be erected
high foetal androgen levels responsible for male sexual facies in adult female spotted hyenas
an unfair stereotype of hyenas in reality fascinating intelligent even beautiful creatures
Disney animators sketches for The Lion King the trio of hyenas in the movie reinforce the common stereotype of hyenas as cowardly skulking lowlifes
Ernest Hemingway, – Fisi, the Hyena, hermaphroditic self-eating devourer of the dead, trailer of calving cows, ham-stringer, potential biter-off of your face at night while you slept, sad yowler, camp-follower, stinking, foul, with jaws that crack the bones the lion leaves, belly dragging, loping away on the brown plain –
“Hyenas” movie an urban legend account of human encounters and attacks by a sub-culture of predatory cryptohuman hyenas shape-shifting human-like creatures prowl the rural back roads and forests of North America thought to exist by cryptozoologists
folklore and sightings persist even as mainstream science denies their existence
Rudyard Kipling: The wise Hyenas come out at eve to take account of our dead,… they know the dead are safer meat than the weakest thing alive… and tug the corpse to light, the pitiful face is shown again, an instant ere they close in.
UK Teaching Resources TES Edwin Morgan enters the mind of the hyena English National 5 Poetry he describes its patient menacing personality Morgan adopts the persona of a hyena I sing and am the slave of darkness, my place is to pick you clean and leave your bones to the wind.
a hunters poem from Lesotho description shifts to the first person singular to give the hyena’s own words I growl being a poor body, I am small, I am hunched up like the elephant…
hyena of the Mmankala of Kone-land a group whose symbol is the hyena when it says ngou! it devours even man
a Yoruba hunting poem the hyena is regarded as the ultimate scavenger there being nothing it won’t eat oral poetry from Africa Hyena who is there when the mourner buries the corpse eats fat and bone, scabbard and hide
spotted hyena strongest jaws in proportion to body size across the entire mammal kingdom cunning hunting tactics nocturnal nature nefarious reputations frontal cortex of their brains thought to regulate social intelligence
the largest of the other three species brown striped and aardwolf spotted hyenas are among Africa’s most vocal animals
All the Babble of the Souk, Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals, Collected Poems, and the recently published Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mistand the recently published Tesserae, a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
Author’s comment: this is a technically constructed work from texts both edited & derived from Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens & Homo Deus with interpolations and additions made by the author (2017)
*
we invent them to serve us controlling our existence
to create virtual worlds with hells and heavens
myths domesticate science
fiction and reality blur shaping our reality
an assembly of biochemical algorithms flash fade flash fade
*
spinning
*
epidemic is business economy grows
human experience as any other item
in the supermarket a designable product
intelligence mandatory consciousness optional
individuals = dividuals
in carbon or silicon
*
owned by imaginary gods
who what you are how to turn you on and off
*
beyond control
beyond
the opaque wall
algorithms can command empire
or an upper class ruling the planet
if words could make dreams come true
a simultaneous instant in the brain of seven billion
emerges the beautiful androgynous face of the serial killer
wheat eater bread winner
*
& the deluge of data
millions of nano-robots coursing humankind’s veins
an Orwellian police state
splits into
the chosen hi-tech Noah’s Ark
a new religion information flow
Datism
A Brave New World
*
to merge or not to merge
the human genome as a digital processor
where overwhelming data
garbles the message in dystopian double talk
will the defeaters prevail
or cometh utopia from outer space
our post human descendants
*
do as you would be done by Datism
as we condemned the mammoth to oblivion
your every action
but where no human can follow or need to understand
in the matrix the inter net of all things
*
where has the power gone
the cosmic data God draweth nigh
the great flow
to maximise to plug you in voters of the world unite
a colossus astride this narrow world
free market big brother
watches over every breath you take
invisible hand that flies in the night
*
between laboratory & museum
voice of a million ancestors
a ripple in the cosmic data flow
shifts homo centric view to data centric view
knowing us better than we know ourselves
*
forager
scavenger of carrion follower in fear & flight
big brained
Neanderthal Denisovan Sapiens
what drove you for 2 million years
a big bum?
*
what bound
small divergent groups of differing tongue & taboo
into the framework of humankind
but fiction
collective myths woven into our reality
from money to the nation state
imprisoned
by the archetypes
we’ve identified them with a virtual reality of cartoon molecules
All the Babble of the Souk, Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals, Collected Poems, and the recently published Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mistand the recently published Tesserae, a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
