Legajos / Juan Sánchez Peláez


Avoiding honors, with a tunic of lavish folds, I left my cave, palms turned upward, with my face over blurry ink.

False and crowned old man... Your great aureole... poof... your index finger on my forehead so you can stab me.

The world became hostile toward me. My senses wanted to live in perennial celebration. After many years I found you. While dozing I imagined you again, with two firm thighs and a rose made of water in the middle of your body.

While you repose and tremble under the giant wing of sex, I come to your side so the tempest will wane.

Arrive where you find yourself and complain to me, surpass my strength. On such a narrow edge all I can do is desire vaster space in the heavy night.

With the suggestion, the bell, the ritornello, the trill, I stretch my arms to the nostalgic forest.

Sunflower of a single thing, I don’t stop interrogating myself by the other face. Wrinkled in my double who takes and brings the sibylline dust.

With a given name in the blue cushion of my childhood, engrossed in the seals.

I dilapidate myself in the black house. The shine of the beast peers furtively. Nature’s song is an errant bird. The world is born amid screams at noon. We are not made according to winter’s wealth. We are lashed by the tree that surrounds us.

Time dilapidates me: The indelible, null, undermines my stillness.

                                                                            to Rafael Cadenas

Repeat the phrase:

When they expelled us from the city (because we were staring at the hummingbird too much), we opened the route of a thousand petals, and already old, not exempt from happiness, rubbed our eyes with stones.

Narrate the voyage, lose the modesty. You are not a slice, a lump nor silence. You are not useless in the country of the wind.

If you come from man and woman take the ghost and the terrestrial aureole like water in a blackbird over your head out for a stroll.

The woman enchants and oppresses with a sickle. I have to keep watch day and night to abolish my scream. But from the unknowable of the species her strength comes up to me because it shows me in the book and in time. I have a crack in her face and in the enigma of being.

Filiación oscura (1966)

{ Juan Sánchez Peláez, Obra poética, Barcelona: Editorial Lumen, 2004 }

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