Tag Archives: translation

swamp-honey/ pantanosa-miel

20 Monday Aug 2012

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I.
Si sigue lloviendo,
descendían al pantano del deseo.
Ir a jugar en los charcos y caricias
lleno de totoral y carrizal.

Arcadia podría ahogarse
en un estallido de humedad.
Lluvias de placer.
Gemidos de pasión.

If it keeps on raining,
go down to the swamp called desire.
Go play in the puddles and caresses
full of cattails and reeds.

Arcadia could drown
in a burst of moisture.
Showers of pleasure.
Moans of passion.

II.
Si sigue lloviendo
contra la pared de carne;
contra el dique; contra
la sangre para siempre
deja que tu boca beber
la pantanosa-miel,
de ese pequeño marisma
donde se tus labios
y tu lengua se cantar.

If it keeps on raining
against this wall of flesh,
against this dam, against
this blood forever
let your mouth drink
the swamp-honey,
that little marsh
where your lips
and your tongue sings.

mi hija, el pornographer (soneto)

19 Sunday Aug 2012

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Fue cuando ella comenzó a traer su trabajo

al hogar que comencé a preocuparme. Caminando

por la cocina para encontrar a alguna muchacha

masturbando a un tipo, era mi hija, capturando

toda en la película, grita las instrucciones. Encontrar

el fregadero lleno juguetes sexuales apenas lavados. Un nuevo

tubo de lubricante anal en su monedero. “mirando a

otros coger,” ella me dijo, “es lo que mejor se hacer.”

No puedo avitar pensar que hay voyeurs

en todos nosotros. Incluso la palabra impresa

era una vez de otros. “Estarias sorprendido

qué todos lo que podemos hacer delante de otros,

dado la ocasión,” dijo ella. “es absurdo

decir que no amamos lo que desdeñan otros.”

mi-hija-el-pornographer-2

(It was when she started bringing her work home that I began worrying. Walking into the kitchen to find some girl jerk a boy off as my daughter, capturing it all on film, shouts instructions. Finding the sink full of sex toys just washed. A new tube of anal lube in her purse. “Watching others fuck,” she told me, “is what I do best.” I can’t help but think there are voyeurs in all of us. Even the printed word was once another’s. “You would be surprised what we all will do in front of others, given the chance,” she said. “It is absurd to say we don’t love what others despise.”)

funcionamiento violento en mí (soneto)

18 Saturday Aug 2012

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¡Usted canta hoy, “te quiero! Te quiero!

Te quiero!” ¿Y qué de él? ¿Guardó

ame en su lado? ¿fantasma gordo que

vaga su paisaje susurrado pararon para llorar

o reírle o hablar? Todos poseemos

secretos. Todos poseemos las pasiones que duermen.

¿Quién no tiene el impulso salvaje de acariciar

o de ser acariciado? Cuando usted piensa en el profundo

las raíces verdes que usted ha empujado en mí, suciedad húmeda

de mi corazón, la dulzura, la señal de socorro,

todas las sensaciones sutiles del desierto

ese funcionamiento violento en mí, le hizo una vez la conjetura

que le desplumaría de este suelo húmedo y porqué?

¿Quién le miraría marchitar y se descolora y muere?

 

sorrow

 

(Today you sing, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” And what of it? Did it keep love at your side? Did any fat ghost who wanders your whispered landscape stop to weep or laugh or speak to you? We all possess secrets. We all possess passions that sleep. Who does not have the wild urge to caress or be caressed? When you think of the deep green roots you have thrust into me, moist dirt of my heart, the tenderness, the distress, all the subtle feelings of the desert that run violent in me, did you once guess who would pluck you from this moist soil and why? Who would watch you wither and fade and die?)

guilty passion

21 Wednesday Mar 2012

Posted by in Armenia, Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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guilty passion Armenian

My dear friend Arevik translated this poem into Armenian for me. It’s been many, many years since I was able to write Heyerin (as the Armenians call their own language) and I am just grateful to have the kind of friends who take time out of their crazy lives to help me out. The original went:

Come kiss me, my guilty passion. Suck the pain out of my blood. Come kiss me, kill me with love. Delicious, relentless, eternal poison. Feverish body. Wonderful cravings.

uma galáxia de cicatrizes

01 Monday Aug 2011

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James Dean foi chamado “o cinzeiro

humano.” Seu peito era uma constelação

de queimaduras de cigarros. Uma galáxia

de cicatrizes. Lambi cada uma limpa.

Pode você recordar a dor? o trovão?

o fode? Outra pessoa amor. Eu disse

a ele: Star Man, me fode, estou nua.

In English, perhaps:

James Dean was called “the human ashtray.” His chest was a constellation of cigarette burns. A galaxy of scars. I licked each one clean. Can you remember the pain? the thunder? the fucks? Another person’s love. I told him: Star Man, fuck me, I’m naked.

o efebo

27 Wednesday Jul 2011

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Rapazes bonitos em jaquetas

de couro preto. O teu corpo

é vodka em minha boca.

Um licor que escorre sensual.

Nada pode se comparar a tua dor,

teu louco riso. Tua queima almas.

Cu meninos, você seduzir

as strap-on irmãs — o efebo,

o efeminado, supremo, culto e glória.

In English:

Pretty boys in black leather jackets. Your body is vodka in my mouth. A liquor that flows sensual. Nothing can compare to your pain, your crazy laugh. Your burning souls. Ass boys, you seduce strap-on sisters — the ephebo, the effeminate, supreme worship and glory.

minhas portas para o reino dos céus

26 Tuesday Jul 2011

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Uma ode à tua períneo. Naquela

estreita, deserta região, o istmo

que medeia paixão, sempre

esquecido, entre o norte e o sul.

Deixe-me fazer uma pausa — North?

South? In? Out? — todos os caminhos

vão em direção a Roma. Eu sou nenhum

arma de guerra, mas eu vou chamá-lo

de meu, esta área não tocada

por homens ou máquinas. Minhas

portas para o reino dos céus.

In English:

An ode to your perineum. That narrow, deserted region, the isthmus that mediates passion, often forgotten, between north and south. Let me pause — North? South? In? Out? — All roads lead toward Rome. I’m no weapon of war, but I’ll call it mine, this area untouched by men or machines. My door to the kingdom of heaven.

uma audiência

25 Monday Jul 2011

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Todo o sexo é perigoso.

Se o amor não é proibido,

não é amor. Arrependimento

jamais nossa mistura de medo

e paixão. Problema em sexo:

nossa a emoção da ser pego.

É apenas pecaminoso quando

temos uma audiência.

In English:

All sex is dangerous. If love is not forbidden, it’s not love. Never regret our mix of fear and passion. Problem with sex: the thrill of our being caught. It’s only sinful when we have an audience.

a libido da nossos cultura

23 Saturday Jul 2011

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“A pornografia é a libido

da nossos cultura.”

Tua foto isso me deixa

intrigada. Mostre-me mais.

Mostre as loucura que você

possui entre as tuas pernas.

O maço de flores que disciplina

a minha boca. O teu esporra

é bombom em minha boca.

Um licor que escorre sensual.

Mostre tudo isso eu quero ver,

de meus lábios tua quadril.

In English:

“Pornography is the libido of our culture.” Your photo makes me intrigued. Show me more. Show the madness that you have between your legs. The bunch of flowers that will discipline my mouth. Your cum is sweet to my taste. A liquor that flows sensual. Show me all that I want to see, from my lips to your hips.