La poesía / Mario Trejo

Poetry

Yes.
Because its lips are born by the light of my eyes.

When its voice appears, its invulnerable rhythm,
everything obeys it.
Above the adversarial sights, above the tedious
work of fearing it, are the restless voices,
time’s patrols, the victorious waves.

Citadel of the dark truth that forsakes
man: I am your prisoner and your fugitive.

My countersign?
To practice your silence, solicit your clamor.

Because, what is poetry then if not a
fanatical slogan, a tension between the
dead and prophecies?




El uso de la palabra (1979)




{ Mario Trejo | Argentina, 1926-2012 }

Ultimátum a un joven poeta / Mario Trejo

Ultimatum to A Young Poet

Let the bread be bread and the sea sea
Enough conjecture
Lunar bats and orchid rodents
All words have a price
Words that attack like rays or vipers
And also mother
Friend
And alcohol and bed and table
And the son conceived by sweet shoving
And the mushrooms that provoke sparkles of love
Or gleams of death
And the poet who falls under the bullets
Like a sun the night pierces

Let the bread be bread and the sea sea
eternal water
But the eternal thirst
So as to finally say:
I have found bread by the sea
The vultures were flying over my love
I have bitten into an orchid

The vultures were disputing a beloved body
I have guided trucks and slept in sawmills
The vultures were devouring my beloved
I traveled by night over the hot sand
I invoked the secret names
I conjured a curse
I contained a catastrophe
I led an eagle to its nest
I have died with my dead and I’m alive
When I arrived at the city
A crazy man was wandering the streets
There was a knife in his glance
I gave him my hand
I looked at him
I spoke to him and my voice lasted amid the stars
We were only two on the earth
But we were two on the earth

Solitude was shattered into pieces
Poetry words




El uso de la palabra (1979)




{ Mario Trejo | Argentina, 1926-2012 }