• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Tag Archives: translation

esta muertos marea baja

18 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

beach, lechuga de mar, low tide, ocean, Spanish, translation

Esta muertos

marea baja.

Yo he sido vagando

esta costa para siempre.

El grito de las aves

vivas en las dunas.

Un resplandor silenciado.

La playa. La madera

de deriva. La lechuga

de mar reseco.

Este dolor es amplia

y solitaria. Y yo

también lo soy.

 

(This dead low tide. I’ve been wandering this coast forever. The cry of the birds living in the dunes. A muted glow. The beach. The driftwood. The withered sea lettuce. This pain is broad and solitary. And I am too.)

kelp y soledad

18 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

drowning, ghost, kelp, soledad, Spanish, translation, Virginia Woolf

para Virginia Woolf, 1882 – 1941

 

Virginia, estás ahí,

en algún lugar.

Un barco en la noche.

Usted se ahogó.

El suspiro de una fantasma.

Perdido en las dunas.

Usted pone piedras

en tu bolsillo.

Una sombra se hundió

en la noche

gris; a continuación,

los residuos.

La tierra baldía de aguas.

El besos suave de las olas contra

un cuerpo gris; una criatura

de kelp y soledad.

 

(Virginia, you’re there, somewhere. A ship in the night. You drowned. The breath of a ghost. Lost in the dunes. You put stones in your pocket. A shadow sank in the gray night, then waste. The water wasteland. The soft kisses of the waves against a gray body, a creature of kelp and loneliness.)

un mojado y fantasmal libertinaje

16 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

Anaïs Nin, Spanish, translation, un mojado y fantasmal libertinaje

(para Anaïs Nin, 1903-1977)

Anaïs. La memoria de tu cuerpo

sigue grabado en mi mente.

Yo veo tu cabello, tu cuello,

tu sonrisa pervertida.

Mi lengua en tu coño.

Sentimos un terremoto …

tu orgasmo, como un géiser.

Usted empapado mis dientes,

muerta hermanita.

Un mojado y fantasmal libertinaje.

 

(Anaïs. The memory of your body remains etched in my mind. I see your hair, your neck, your perverted smile. My tongue in your cunt. We feel an earthquake … your orgasm, like a geyser. You soaked my teeth, dead sister. A ghostly wet debauchery.)

dura la polla y los fantasmas

16 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

family, ghost, laughter, polla, Spanish, the dead, translation

Los muertos viven conmigo.

Fantasmas de vírgenes que se suicidó.

Cada persona que murió de un corazón roto.

Durante todo el día vemos películas tristes.

No porque ahora estamos tristes.

No porque nuestros corazones se sigue rotos.

Ai, una vez que estábamos solos,

y ahora somos familia.

Estamos aprendiendo a reírse de nuevo.

 

dura la polla y los fantasmas

(The dead live with me. Ghosts of virgins who committed suicide. Each soul who died from a broken heart. All day we watch sad movies. Not because we are sad. Not because our hearts are still broken. Ai, once we were all alone, and now we are family. We are learning to laugh again)

lluvia ácida

15 Saturday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

acid rain, homoerotica, lluvia ácida, Spanish, Tom of Finland, translation

Está lloviendo.

Lluvia ácida.

Todo se quema.

Después de la medianoche

en la ventana estoy desnudo.

Usted puede contar

las quemaduras

de cigarrillo en mi pecho.

Regalos de extraños.

Incluso mis delirios

son dolorosas.

¡viva tom of finland!

¡viva tom of finland!

(It’s raining. Acid rain. Everything burns. After midnight I was naked in the window. You can count the cigarette burns on my chest. Gifts from strangers. Even my delusions are painful)

mi boca viaja en sus anatomías

14 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

cielo de la noche, happiness, interracial, night sky, relax, Spanish, translation

 

Esto es felicidad:

para relajarse desnuda

bajo el cielo de la noche.

Mi amado no está aquí.

¡Ai, mi amor!

Yo soy infiel

a usted con el cielo.

Dulce cielo, estrellas,

lunas, galaxias infinitas.

Mi boca viaja en sus anatomías.

Entiendo cómo dar un orgasmo

al el cielo de la noche.

(This is happiness: to relax naked under the night sky. My beloved is not here. ¡Ai, my love! I’m cheating on you with the sky. Sweet heaven, stars, moons, endless galaxies. My mouth travels in their anatomies. I understand how to give an orgasm to the night sky)

las palabras obscenas

14 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

Arcadia, Deseo, desire, las palabras obscenas, obscene words, Orpheus, sing, Spanish, translation

Vivo con palabras obscenas.

Palabras que te hacen loco en la boca.

Si sigue lloviendo, ir al ciénaga llamado Deseo.

Ir a jugar en los charcos llenas de totorales y juncos.

Orpheus entendido esta sabiduría.

Arcadia podría ahogarse en una ráfaga de humedad.

Ducha de placer. Amigas,

quiero cantarte palabras obscenas.

 

(I live with obscene words. Words that make you crazy in the mouth. If it keeps on raining, go to the swamp named Desire. Go play in the puddles filled with reeds and rushes. Orpheus understood this wisdom. Arcadia could drown in a burst of moisture. Shower of pleasure. Friends, I want to sing obscene words.)

no despierte el mar

14 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

drowning, el mar, Poseidon, salado miel, salt honey, sea, Spanish, translation

Una vez al mes,
mi mar está furioso.
Un dios de mareas
y dormitorios.
Esta noche, mi salado
miel es comido por mí mismo.
Vete. El las algas rojas
es para usted.
Padre Poseidón
está durmiendo.
No despierte el mar.
Cada beso un tifón
de relámpagos y truenos.
Vete. Todos mis amantes
se ahogó.

cumming in blue

(Once a month, my sea is furious. A god of tides and bedrooms. Tonight, my salty honey is eaten all by myself. Go. The red algae is for you. Father Poseidon is sleeping. Don’t wake the sea. Each kiss a typhoon of lightning and thunder. Go. All my lovers have drowned)

corteza de limón

13 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

corteza de limón, Portuguese, translation

Esta noche,
besé mis diez dedos
y disfruté de mi vudú.
Me siento como
una mala luna.
Corteza de limón.
Esta noche,
yo soy el calor
de la bestia.
Todo mi cuerpo
es pulsátil.
Yo quiero más.
Quiero todo,
sin vergüenza.
Esta noche,
mi polla
se duerme
en tu boca.
Voy abandonar
yo all allí.

(Tonight, I kissed my ten fingers and enjoyed my voodoo. I feel like a bad moon. Lemon rind. Tonight, I am the heat of the beast. My whole body is throbbing. I want more. I want everything without shame. Tonight, my dick falls asleep in your mouth. I’m going to leave me there)

ambas cosas son ciertas

13 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

bisexual, cock, nipples, Spanish, translation

Ayer me escribió, “La punta

de tu polla apuntando al cielo,

hinchado, largo y oscuro.

Algunos pueden llamar a esta obsceno.

Yo lo llamo oración.” Hoy escribo,

“Las puntas de tus pechos apuntando

al cielo, hinchado, largo y oscuro.

Algunos pueden llamar a esta obsceno.

Yo lo llamo oración.” Ambas

cosas son ciertas.

 

(Yesterday I wrote, “The tip of your cock pointing to the sky, puffy, long and dark. Some may call this obscene. I call it prayer.” Today I write, “The tips of your breasts pointing to the sky, puffy, long and dark. Some may call this obscene. I call it prayer.” Both are true.)

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