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Alí Calderón - And we went up the one hundred and fourteen long steps of that temple The sharpness of their volcanic stone burnt our hands - 17 ივლისში 2018 - პოეზიის სამყარო
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მთავარი » 2018 » ივლისი » 17 » Alí Calderón - And we went up the one hundred and fourteen long steps of that temple The sharpness of their volcanic stone burnt our hands


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Alí Calderón - And we went up the one hundred and fourteen long steps of that temple The sharpness of their volcanic stone burnt our hands


And we went up the one hundred and fourteen long steps of that temple
The sharpness of their volcanic stone burnt our hands

There I saw the neighbouring towns
the market of aromatic pine-sticks and tigers
Tlatelolco
It was from the very high Plaza that we observed
the fresh-sweet water coming from Chapultepec
Iztapalapa Tlacopan Tepeaquilla everything dominated by our eyes

We turned our backs and saw
in constellations
blocks and bodies of their idols
bad shapes
all of them taller than a very tall man
and distorted
made out of mud dough and legumes mixed
with seed and blood of human hearts and spoils
such was the mess

In a small tower-apartment like a salon
two altars
two blocks
two tall bodies extremely detestable
one of them
Uichilobos
had his head and face so wide and warped eyes grisly
his body daubed with glue and roots and beads
blood and other excretions
and hanging from his plexus some faces
torn apart from their skulls
more than enough to circle an oak trunk
and gasping for the copal smoke
I had seen
all the walls of that shrine
flooded and packed with crusts
and plasma also on the floor that
a slaughterhouse doesn’t exceed such stench

And they had a drum there made of raw snake skin
that when they played
such was the sorrow of its beats
that hades got closer

They were taken by five
two by the legs two by the arms
one more by the head and another miserable bastard
with a stone knife in both hands slashed their chests
then with one hand through the wound
dragged their hearts out

the bodies loose in their dark miseries
disjointed were eaten by everybody
the basophils drank granate and bermellion
the faces purplish hundreds of gallons of a reddish flow
towards the plaza

and they threw the remains and other erythrocytes
steps down
they dressed up with the hides
stumps chunks live flesh lymphocytes

The satraps also spilled blood outside the temples
before the Uichilobos and the beheaded young men
wild spiky hair
disjointed blood clots thighs
forearms tibias and there’s the bone between grease
and flesh then masking tape
around sniffed noses and mouths and then hang them
from bridges
and the wind of dawns broke their jaws
wrapped in black bags
here they come the inspection posts
I’ve heard that they also spill millions of RBCs and
normochromatics
severed heads piled on
thorax which flesh trembles
at a simple finger touch
and there abdomens breasts frontal bones
eyes
armpits anuses pancreas gunned down
getting rotten in the mouths
of rats

Ladies of this land
© Alí Calderón
From: Las correspondencias
Publisher: Visor, Madrid, 2015


Translation: Mario Licón Cabrera


გამოხატეთ თქვენი აზრი მოცემული ლექსის შესახებ კომენტარის სახით!..




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