EL ANGEL PROMETIDO. THE PROMISED ANGEL (Extract)Poem.Javier Diaz Gil.Translated Robin Ouzman Hislop & Amparo Arrospide

 

(i)

Creyó que era un ángel.

Tuvo suerte.

 

Resulté

ser un fantasma.

****

He believed I was an angel.

He was lucky.

 

I happened

to be a ghost.

****

(ii)

Terminarás aprendiendo

 –yo te enseñaré–:

 

Lo más difícil

de todo

 

es desaparecer.

****

You will end up learning

 — I will teach you–:

 

Most difficult

of all

 

is to vanish.

****

(iii)

A plena luz

los fantasmas

son más visibles.

 

Sólo los ángeles

buscan la noche.

****

In broad daylight

ghosts

are most visible.

 

Only angels

seek the night.

****

(iv)

¡Aprovéchate!

 

Los fantasmas

tenemos

 

sexo.

****

Be cool!

 

As yes,

we ghosts

have

 

sex.

****

(v)

Te asustarás

si ves un fantasma.

 

Pero preocúpate

si es

un ángel

lo que ves.

****

You’ll be scared

should you see a ghost.

 

But you should worry

if it´s

an angel

you see.

****

(vi)

En caso de duda

levanta la sábana

del fantasma.

 

A veces debajo

se esconde

 

un ángel.

****

In case of doubt

lift the sheet

from the ghost.

 

At times beneath

hides

 

an angel.

****

(vii)

Los ángeles

siempre

regresan

al

lugar

 

 

del

crimen.

****

Angels

always

return

to

the scene

 

of

the crime.

****

Febrero 2012 Javier Diez Gil

Javier Díaz Gil, Madrid, 1964. A Bachelor in Geography & History, with a diploma in General Education Teaching. Until 2006, co-founder and director of the literary magazine Rascamán. For over ten years he has supervised Creative Literature Workshops. Director and moderator of the cycles Escritores en la Biblioteca (“María Moliner” Library). He has published the poetry books Humo, granted the Humberto Tenedor award, Abarán, 2000; Hallazgo de la visión, granted the Nicolás del Hierro award, Piedrabuena, 2000. In 2006 at Santiago de Chile he took part in the Latin American poetry meeting “Poquita Fe” and in 2007 at São Paulo (Brazil) in the “Festival de Tordesilhas”. His poems have been published in literary anthologies and magazines such as Poeta de ©abra (Madrid), Luces y sombras (Tafalla), sèrieAlfa (Valencia), Cuadernos del Matemático (Madrid) o Celuzlose (São Paulo). He was selected at the “Diputación de Badajoz” 2008 Experimental Poetry Award, nominated for the 2010 Addison de Witt Poetry Award and awarded the 2013 “Manzanares el Real” Poetry Award. His poems have been translated into English, Portuguese and Catalan. A member of the Society of Spanish Writers & Artists, since 2006 he chairs the weekly literary gathering Rascamán held at the Café Ruiz in Madrid. His blog can be found at  http://javierdiazgil.blogspot.com

***
WIN_20140415_213447

Robin Ouzman Hislop (UK) Co-editor of the 12 year running on line monthly poetry journal Poetry Life and Times. (See its Wikipedia entry at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poetry_Life_and_Times). He has made many appearances over the last years in the quarterly journals Canadian Zen Haiku, including In the Spotlight Winter 2010 & Sonnetto Poesia. Previously published in international magazines, recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review, Appalachian University N Carolina, Post Hoc installed at Bank Street Arts Centre, Sheffield (UK), Uroborus Journal, 2011-2012 (Sheffield, UK), The Poetic Bond II & 111, available at http://www.thepoeticbond.com and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes a recently published Anthology of Sonnets: http://bit.ly/1lIL0jF. He has recently completed a volume of poetry, The World at Large, for future publication. He is currently resident in Spain engaged in poetry translation projects.robin@artvilla.com and you can also visit Face Book site at www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes

 
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Amparo Arrospide (Argentina) is a Spanish poet and translator. She has published four poetry collections, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinación en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pañuelos de usar y tirar and Presencia en el Misterio as well as poems, short stories and articles on literary and film criticism in anthologies and both national and foreign magazines. She has received numerous awards. Together with Robin Ouzman Hislop, she worked as co-editor of Poetry Life and Times, an E-zine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Abandoned Church(Ballad of The Great War)Poem.Torre A. DeVito Translated from Iglesia Abandonada.Federico García Lorca

IGLESIA ABANDONADA
(BALADA DE LA GRAN GUERRA)

Yo tenía un hijo que se llamaba Juan.
Yo tenía un hijo.
Se perdió por los arcos un viernes de todos los muertos.
Lo vi jugar en las últimas escaleras de la misa
y echaba un cubito de hojalata en el corazón del sacerdote.
He golpeado los ataúdes. ¡Mi hijo! ¡Mi hijo! ¡Mi hijo!
Saqué una pata de gallina por detrás de la luna y luego
comprendí que mi niña era un pez
por donde se alejan las carretas.
Yo tenía una niña.
Yo tenía un pez muerto bajo la ceniza de los incensarios.
Yo tenía un mar. ¿De qué? ¡Dios mío! ¡Un mar!
Subí a tocar las campanas, pero las frutas tenían gusanos
y las cerillas apagadas
se comían los trigos de la primavera.
Yo vi la transparente cigüeña de alcohol
mondar las negras cabezas de los soldados agonizantes
y vi las cabañas de goma
donde giraban las copas llenas de lágrimas.
En las anémonas del ofertorio to encontraré, ¡corazón mío!,
cuando el sacerdote levante la mula y el buey con sus fuertes brazos
para espantar los sapos nocturnos que rondan los helados paisajes del cáliz.
Yo tenía un hijo que era un gigante,
pero los muertos son más fuertes y saben devorar pedazos de cielo.
Si mi niño hubiera sido un oso,
yo no temería el siglo de los caimanes,
ni hubiese visto el mar amarrado a los árboles
para ser fornicado y herido por el tropel de los regimientos.
¡Si mi niño hubiera sido un oso!
Me envolveré sobre esta lona dura para no sentir el frío de los musgos.
Sé muy bien que me darán una manga o la corbata;
pero en el centro de la misa yo rompere el timón y entonces
vendrá a la piedra la locura de pingüinos y gaviotas
que harán decir a los que duermen y a los que cantan por las esquinas:
él tenía un hijo.
¡Un hijo! ¡Un hijo! ¡Un hijo
que no era más que suyo. porque era su hijo!
¡Su hijo! ¡Su hijo! ¡Su híjo!

 ***

The Abandoned Church
(A Ballad of The Great War)

Translated and further interpreted by Torre DeVito
from “IGLESIA ABANDONADA” by Federico García Lorca

I had a son who was named John.
I lost a son whom I look for in
the ruins of the church one All-Hallows eve.
I see him playing on the steps during a mass long since ended,
Dipping his little tin pail into the well of the priest’s heart.
I beat the coffins for my son (My son!) and cast
chicken bones during a full moon to try and understand

I had a vision that my little child was a fish
left where they move the vendor’s carts away.
I had a little child, a fish that died
in the ashes of incense burners.
And in my vision I was the sea. What? My God! A vast sea!

During his funeral I rang the bells,
but the bells have decayed like wormy fruit.
and I lit the candles, now devoured:
eaten like the spring wheat.

And in the wine, I saw the invisible reaper which
plucks the black heads of anguished soldiers:
in those trays with rubber housings
in which they pass around cups filled with tears.

Amongst the holy flowers of the offertory you will find my heart
when the priest raises the host like one who lifts
a mule or an ox with his strong arms. He does this to
scare away the toads that come out at night to haunt
the frozen landscape of the chalice.

I had a son who was a giant,
but the dead are stronger than the living
and they know how to devour pieces of heaven.

If my child was a bear,
I would not be afraid of the alligator’s stealth,
nor would I have seen the sea tied to the trees
to be ravished and trampled by regiments.
If my child was a bear!

I wrap my child in stiff fabric to dispel the cold of the mosses.
I know very well that I will get a sleeve or an armband;
but in the middle of the funeral I will break the rudder
we will drift to a rock in the sea – full of the madness of
penguins and seagulls, and it will cause those who sleep and
those who sing from the street-corners to cry:
He had a son. A son! A son!

I had a son! Not that he was more than my son,
but because he belongs to us all now, they cry:
Our son, our son, our son…

***

( http://www.tdevito.com )

Fireworks. Sonnet.Poem.Candice James

 
 
 

Bold fireworks splashed against a blackened sky
Flared up to burn night down to raw red dawn.
We travelled light with broken compass nigh,
With nothing left of value we could pawn.
We trusted in the knowledge of the wind,
And drifted on the wet silk of her lip,
Until our vows of love became unpinned.
Untangled heartbeats.  Unjoined at the hip.
An ancient masterpiece now out of fashion,
We spun beneath the axis of the moon.
Two star crossed lovers in a web of passion,
We witnessed midnight crashing into noon.
Erased, we’re the collision of two comets;
New ink stains blurred on antiquated sonnets.
 
 
IMAG0706
 
Candice James was born in New Westminster, BC and is a poet, artist, musician, and 
singer/songwriter. 
She is currently serving her second  three year term as Poet Laureate of the City of 
New Westminster.
 
CANDICE IS ALSO
President of Royal City Literary Arts Society
Advisory Board Member Muse International (India)
Advisory Board Member of the Federation of BC Writers
Past President of the Federation of BC Writers
 
Author of 7 poetry books:
”A Split In The Water”; 
“Inner Heart – a journey”; 
“Bridges and Clouds”; 
“Midnight Embers – a Book of Sonnets”
“Shorelines” – a book of villanelles 
“Ekphrasticism – Painted Words”
“Purple Haze” 
 
Awards Received
Writers International Network “Distinguished Poet 2013”
Pentasi B – Phillippines  “Woman of Prestige 2013”
Honorary Professor International Academy of Arts (Greece)
 
Keynote speaker/panelist at
“Word On The Street” Vancouver, BC
“Black Dot Roots Cultural Collective” Vancouver, BC
“Write On The Beach” White Rock, BC
“Writers’ Etc” Los Angeles, CA
 
Phoenix  Book Image
 

 
This Sonnet Fireworks appears in the The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: 
Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium 
= Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets au début 
du troisième millénaire. 
Vallance, Richard, Ed-in-Chief. Victoria, British Columbia: Friesen Press, ©
  
Some 300 sonnets and ghazals in English, French, Spanish, German and Farsi published at 
Friesen Press, and now available.   
   
Friesen Press will do all the marketing and distribution. 
   
To be available in major bookstores & through all major online order channels 
such as Amazon.com, Alibris.com, Smithsbook's, Ebay and Barnes & Noble: 
For more information on the anthology, please visit our site. 
The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes = Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres 

http://vallance22.hpage.com/ 

 
editor@artvilla.com
robin@artvilla.com
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
www.facebook.com/Artvilla.com

The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of Sonnets. Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets. Poetry. Richard Vallance.

Phoenix  Book Image

The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium
= Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets au début du troisième millénaire.
Vallance, Richard, Ed-in-Chief. Victoria, British Columbia: Friesen Press, ©
 
Some 300 sonnets and ghazals in English,
French, Spanish, German and Farsi published at
Friesen Press, and now available.
 
 
Friesen Press will do all the marketing and distribution.
 
To be available
in major bookstores & through all major online order channels
such as Amazon.com, Alibris.com,
Smithsbook's, Ebay and Barnes & Noble:
For more information on the anthology, please visit our site.
The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes = Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres