Preview: poems from the book “Fragments d’un Crépuscule Blessé”
Space is nothing but rawness
Words stink of sulphur
Movement a cruel choreography
A metaphysical pornography
The infinite void of thought
expunges all feeling from my skin
To quench my craving for otherness
my subconscious espouses dissidence
Who was this?
This man lying prone?
This man sleeping
in an uplifted coffin?
Brother fiancé lover?
Apocalypse anticipates
Hell arrives too early
Day began with light
Evening is freighted
with murdered blood
The sun toughens our brains
I have entered a blood pac
with its solar journey
Hardship revives my moral wounds
My eyelids secrete vexation
Scraps of outdated words lie about
Raw time chafes my youth
but my resistance is the yeast
that will leaven the dough
The air erodes
Its shadow quivers
My land is lost sand
My skin a black target
A rough weave of laments
How could anyone believe that a mother
is anything but love?
A víbora dissimulou seu venenoThe viper conceals its venom
on a lawn irradiated with light
Entrenched behind a pathetic vanity
the viper dialogues with illusion
while awaiting absolution
In the whiteness of their certainties
and their brilliant happiness
it is easy to forget that the wind
is splattered with haemoglobin
Glasgow or Edinburgh?
No. Pretoria.
The voyeuristic eye of the other
pulses with hatred
Vitreous eye that seeds turbulence
and turns my existence to ash
My inner citadel resists
their granite selves
I meet their fantasies
with passive blankness
and a vulnerable smile
because I know
that time is accelerating
Preview: poems from the book “Fragments d’un Crépuscule Blessé”, written by Célestin Monga 12.03.11
Translated by Nora Alleyn. The book is going to be released in a co-edition between Editora Contraponto (Rio de Janeiro) and Editora Realejo (Santos-São Paulo) after the Opening Session on March 29th with the author and the translator presence.
Source: Terceira Metade
