Monday, May 20, 2019

FROM ALMA MATER II: SURREAL IS OUR LOVE

THE FORGOTTEN POEM

This poem was actually rescued by Facebook from my account through their remembrance section of a few years ago.  The poem was actually written in Spanish and with a few editions and corrections translated into British English for the upcoming British International Edition to appear this month.

FROM ALMA MATER II: SURREAL IS OUR LOVE 
(BRITISH INTERNATIONAL EDITION) 
TO APPEAR SOON







En el alba en que no pude encontrarte,
dormías bajo las mantas, silenciosa, muda,
callada por el olvido inaudito de los cantantes
que enmudecieron tu sueño aún desnuda.


La serenata llama al calor de una fogata
que irrumpe en tu espacio secreto,
deshojada llamarada que ama tus besos
y hasta revuelve tu pelo y en ti la pasión desata.


La imperfección de mis versos te llega como besos
que navegan el frío lejano y calientan un sol,
que late entre paredes de piel, carne, y barro de senos.


El alma te despierta y sientes mi aliento;
tu piel se acrecenta al latido y sientes mis besos,
que acarician tu sueño y despiertan en tí todo lo bello.




In the dawn when I could not find you,
you slept under the blankets, silent, mute,
quieted by the unheard-of forgetfulness of the singers
who silenced your still naked dream.


The serenade calls for a bonfire's heat
that bursts into your secret space,
the leafless flare that loves your kisses
and even stirs your hair and passion unties in you.


The imperfection of my verses comes to you as kisses
that navigate the distant cold and heat a sun,
which beats between walls of skin, flesh, and breast mud.


The soul awakens you and you feel my breath;
your skin increases at my heartbeat and you sense my kisses,
that caress your dream and awaken in you all beauty.

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