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Two poems: san jeronimo brook & [in english and spanish] - poetry

 

Fair Andes! Thy arms reach high

Of iron-woven solid stone
Thu art a condor to the sky

Of glory buried in thy heart

So many paths, a maze of art?

In thy old, Mantaro Valley

Where adobes, breathe and tremble
Beyond your rural shadows

There lays the prettiest of brooks

Is my heart, surrounded by its stream!

My image greatly carved, rippled

In its neat shallow waters

Waiting, just behind you for me?

As it opens up, opens up my soul

My rippled soul-searching-eyes!. . .

Note: Amid Lima, Peru, and the Andes, and just ahead of is the Mantaro Valley; therein, lays the area and village called San Jeronimo; tucked away in its foliage, and rural background, is a brook, a brook that runs down form the mountains. It is a lazy and peaceful place. It glistens with the sun. What more can I say. #725 6/10/05

In Spanish

A las Montaas
[ o : Gap de San Jeronimo]

hermosos Andes! tus brazos llegan alto.

De piedra tejida por hierro slido
tu eres un condor para el cielo

De gloria ocultada en tu corazn.

Tantos caminos, un arte de laberinto ?
En tu viejo, Valle del Mantaro

Donde los adobes, respiran y tiemblan
Ms all de sus sombras rsticas

All descansa el ms bonito de los arroyos

Est mi corazn, dentro de su corriente!
Mi imagen profundamente tallada, ondulada

En sus aguas no diluidas bajas

Esperando, solamente esperando por m ?

Asi como esto se abre, se abre mi alma

Mis ojos de examen de conciencia ondulados!. . .

Note: Entre Lima, Per, y los Andes, y solamente ms all est el Valle del Mantaro; all dentro descansa el area y el pueblo llamado San Jeronimo; metido dentro de su follaje, y el fondo rstico, es un arroyo, una corriente que corre hacia abajo de las montaas. Esto es un lugar placido y pacfico. Esto brilla con el sol. Que ms puede yo decir. *725 6/10/05

Fingers contained by my Dream

"Who's exclusive this dream of mine?"
No stars, no orbits only pale dim light
A cold moon, with fleecy clouds-

Death, death contained by a red dream?
Shall I wakeup to find for myself free? (or)
Closed in, stuck in this frozen dream??

?to fine I was never where I thought-
Nor faithfully what I thought. I was
In this dream with fingers hanging?

?stinging, grabbing me in this dream;
Trying to wake me up-to reality?
To tell me, it was all a dream

(now?good night)!

#726 6/11/05

In Spanish

Dedos dentro de mi Sueo

" Quin est dentro de este sueo mio?"
Ninguna estrella, ninguna rbita slo palidez de luz dbil Una luna fra,
con nubes lanudas-
Muerte, muerte dentro de un sueo carmes ?
despertar para encontrarme libre?
Metido, pegado en este sueo congelado ??
?Para bien yo nunca estuve donde pens-
Ni exactamente lo que pens. Yo era
En este sueo con dedos prendidos. . . .
?hiriendome, agarrndome en este sueo;
tratando de despertarme a la realidad ?
Para decirme, era todo un sueo

(ahora. . . buenas noches)!

*726 6/11/

Author/Poet Dennis Siluk you can see his books on http://www. bn. com or http://www. amazon. com


MORE RESOURCES:




















Anne Stevenson obituary  The Guardian

Just poetry  Martha's Vineyard Times























Poetry: Adirondack Blue  Adirondack Almanack


















Catharsis and beyond  Times of Malta





New Bern as seen from poets’ eyes  New Bern Sun Journal























Why teach poetry?  The Michigan Daily










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