30.1.12

Surrealist Texts by Surrealist Women: Olga Orozco

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Entre perro y lobo


Me clausuran en mí.
Me dividen en dos.
Me engendran cada día en la paciencia
y en un negro organismo que ruge como el mar.
Me recortan después con las tijeras de la pesadilla
y caigo en este mundo con media sangre vuelta a cada lado:
una cara labrada desde el fondo por los colmillos de la  furia a solas,
y otra que se disuelve entre la niebla de las grandes manadas.
No consigo saber quién es el amo aquí.
Cambio bajo mi piel de perro a lobo.
Yo decreto la peste y atravieso con mis flancos en llamas
las planicies del porvenir y del pasado;
yo me tiendo a roer los huesecitos de tantos sueños
     muertos entre celestes pastizales.
Mi reino está en mi sombra y va conmigo dondequiera que vaya,
o se desploma en ruinas con las puertas abiertas a la
     invasión del enemigo.
Cada noche desgarro a dentelladas todo lazo ceñido al corazón,
y cada amanecer me encuentra con mi jaula de obediencia en el lomo.
Si devoro a mi dios uso su rostro debajo de mi máscara,
y sin embargo sólo bebo en el abrevadero de los hombres
un aterciopelado veneno de piedad que raspa en las entrañas.
He labrado el torneo en las dos tramas de la tapicería:
he ganado mi cetro de bestia en la intemperie,
y he otorgado también jirones de mansedumbre por trofeo.
Pero ¿quién vence en mí?
¿Quién defiende de mi bastión solitario en el desierto, la sábana del sueño?
¿Y quién roe mis labios, despacito y a oscuras, desde mis propios dientes?

Olga Orozco

Twilight  (Beetween dog and wolf)


They fold me up into myself
They divide me in two
Every day they create me in patience
and a black organism that roars like the sea.
Afterward, they cut me again with nightmare scissors
and I  fall into this world half my blood flowing on either side:
a face carved from the bottom up
by the fangs of  fury itself
and another that dissolves in the mists of the great wolfpacks.
I can't decide who is the master here.
Under my skin I change from dog to wolf.
I decree the plague and flanks aflame
I straddle the plains of past and future;
I lean forward to nibble at the little bones of so many dead dreams between
celestial pastures.
My kingdom is in my shadow and goes with me wherever I go,
or crashes over the ruins, doors open to enemy invasion.
Each night I rip to shreds all the knots lashed to my heart,
and each dawn I find myself on a hill within my cage of obedience.
If I devour my god I wear his face under my mask,
and nonetheless, I drink only from the peoples trough
velvety poison of piety that stings the guts.
I worked the tournament into the warp and woof of the tapestry:
Exposed to the elements, I have won my fool scepter,
and I also awarded banners of gentleness as prizes.
But who conquers me?
Who defeats my remote outpost in the desert, the sheet of sleep?
And who gnaws at my lips slowly, in the dark, from between my own teeth?

Translated by Natalie Kenvin, in Penelope Rosemont, op.cit. p.266

Lucian Freud, Double portrait (1985-86)

25.1.12

Impressões

***

Ao ritmo da maré -
a rodar -
vinda do sul.
Depois da névoa,
no paul, sob a ponte
miragem rósea - flamingos
fonte de encanto -
a flanar no rio.
Sempre me espanto:
a perna pendente
por um fio.



Ao ritmo da maré
a caminhar -
num destes domingos -
sob o olhar do sol:
azul - delírio dos elementos:
água, fogo e ar -
Na falésia,
espreitam palmeiras -
a bambolear -
fragmentos de um oásis.

















Ao ritmo da maré
a flutuar -
enleada no halo
das palavras e dos beijos
lançados à luz lenta da lua.

Il faut tenir un journal ...

Le mieux serait d'écrire les évenements au jour le jour. Tenir un journal pour y voir clair. Les nuances, les petits faits, même s'ils n'ont l'air de rien [...]
Sartre, La Nausée, (Paris, Gallimard, 1966), p. 13

Pigeons corners [Hommage à Tareco]




J’ai volé l’oiseau jaune
Qui vit dans le sexe du diable
Il m’apprendra comment séduire
Les hommes, les cerfs, les anges aux ailes doubles,
Il ôtera ma soif, mes vêtements, mes illusions,
Il dormira,
Mais moi, mon sommeil court sur les toits
Murmurant, gesticulant, faisant l’amour violemment,
Avec des chats.




I've stolen the yellow bird
Living in the devil's sex.
It will teach me how to seduce
Men, deer, angels with double wings.
It will take away my thirst, my clothing, my illusions
It will sleep
But my sleep runs across roofs
Murmuring, gesturing, violently making love
With cats.

Joyce Mansour

"Sunset Boulevard"



Sad Song 


Too many screamers 
Wearing a mask 
Too many dreamers
 Looking for the ones that last

Too many eyes 
Looking for hope
Too many tears 
Looking for a way to cope 


It's no joke 
It's just a sad song 
That pulls you along
 yeah 
It's just a sad song 
And it won't take long 


Too many thoughts 
Breaking your stride
Too many jekylls 
Feeling like a Mr. Hyde 


Too many clouds 
Darken your day 
Too many rain drops
Falling on your thunder bay 
Everyday 
Yeah


 It's just a sad song 
That pulls you along 
yeah 
It's just a sad song
And you're getting it on


 It's just a sad song
 That pulls you along
 It's just a sad song 
And it won't take long 


Too many heartaches
Waiting to strike 
Too many clowns
Saying everything's all right 


 Too many fires
 Scorching your mind 
Too many preachers
 Saying what you should find 
Just see the signs


 It's just a sad song 
That pulls you along
 yeah
 It's just a sad song 
And it won't take long


 It's just a sad song 
It pulls you along
It's just a sad song
And it won't take long 


 It's just a sad song
 A sad song 
yeah 
 It's just a sad song 
And you're getting it on 
 It's just a sad song 
Sad song
It's just a sad song
 And it won't take long 


The Cars

11.1.12

Octopus'garden


I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade
He'd let us in, knows where we've been
In his octopus' garden in the shade
I'd ask my friends to come and see
An octopus' garden with me
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade.
We would be warm below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves
Resting our head on the sea bed
In an octopus' garden near a cave
We would sing and dance around
because we know we can't be found
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade
We would shout and swim about
The coral that lies beneath the waves
(Lies beneath the ocean waves)
Oh what joy for every girl and boy
Knowing they're happy and they're safe
(Happy and they're safe)
We would be so happy you and me
No one there to tell us what to do
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden with you.
The Beatles, Abbey Road



Tareco



Le Chat


I

Dans ma cervelle se promène
Ainsi qu'en son appartement,
Un beau chat, fort, doux et charmant.
Quand il miaule, on l'entend à peine,

Tant son timbre est tendre et discret ;
Mais que sa voix s'apaise ou gronde,
Elle est toujours riche et profonde.
C'est là son charme et son secret.

Cette voix, qui perle et qui filtre
Dans mon fonds le plus ténébreux,
Me remplit comme un vers nombreux
Et me réjouit comme un philtre.

Elle endort les plus cruels maux
Et contient toutes les extases ;
Pour dire les plus longues phrases,
Elle n'a pas besoin de mots.

Non, il n'est pas d'archet qui morde
Sur mon coeur, parfait instrument,
Et fasse plus royalement
Chanter sa plus vibrante corde,

Que ta voix, chat mystérieux,
Chat séraphique, chat étrange,
En qui tout est, comme en un ange,
Aussi subtil qu'harmonieux !



Charles Baudelaire


9.1.12

In Amore Veritas (2)

No princípio era a aridez.

No tempo oportuno,
todo o sentido
se desvelou:

na onda do olhar,
no pulsar da pele,
na efervescência dos lábios,
no rumor da voz,
na cadência dos gestos,
no ímpeto do sangue,
no expandir-se do corpo,
no compasso da carne,
no voo estonteante,
da solubilidade das almas.

2.1.12

Infinito perfeito



Na insalubridade deste paul,
sob este azul de sol feito -
produto saturado de sul -
aos teus olhos volto.
Antecipo no pensamento,
a preciosidade do momento,
em que  me vens trazer
o lótus azul do prazer.