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Nidia Hernández: Miami Book Fair 2016 (Spanish and English versions)
Miami Book Fair 2016
Era un muchacho
de mirada perdida
llegó tarde
despistado
Le dije a mis amigas
-Él es un poeta
(no todos lo eran)
un poeta y un árbol
siempre son intercambiables
su mirada viajaba
como un tren sin destino
un chico de ojos grises
parpadeando abismos
¿lo encapsulaba
el anillo de Saturno?
Yo lo quería abrazar
por su silencio
que traspasaba piedras
¿conoció a su madre?
¿tenia una hermana perdida?
¿cuál era su tristeza
que atravesaba océanos
y llegaba intacta
a aparearse con un lobo
que aullaba
y aullaba?
llevaba en sus hombros
un gorrión que lloraba
~~~
Miami Book Fair 2016
(Translated by Rowena Hill)
He was a boy
with a blank stare
he arrived late
disoriented
I told my girlfriends
´He’s a poet´
(not all of them were)
a poet and a tree
are always interchangeable
his gaze traveled
like a train with no destination
a boy with grey eyes
blinking abysses
was he encapsulated
in a ring of Saturn?
I wanted to hug him
for his silence
that pierced stones
did he know his mother?
did he have a lost sister?
what was his sadness
that crossed oceans
and arrived intact
to couple with a wolf
that howled
and howled?
was he carrying on his shoulder
a weeping sparrow?
~~~~~
Nidia Hernández was born in Venezuela, and has been living in the US since 2018. She is a poet and translator of Portuguese poetry, an editor, broadcaster, and radio producer, and a poetry curator. Nidia directs the editorial project lamajadesnuda.com, which won the 2011 WSA prize for Cultural Heritage. She curates Poesiaudio (Arrowsmith Press) and is a contributor for Mercurius Magazine. She has presented works drawn from the 31 years of her radio program (also called La maja desnuda) which has more than 1,560 broadcasts. Currently, she is broadcasting the program through UPV Radio 102.5 FM in Valencia, Spain.
Copyright 2024 Nidia Hernández. Translation copyright Rowena Hill. From The Farewell Light (2024, Arrowsmith)
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A poet and a tree. And an old lady here while the book fair is there. There was a tree, a eucalyptus with few leaves but many birds on the property behind mine. I could sit on my deck and watch them. The neighbors cut it down. Probably a good idea because the tree was not healthy. I planted a tree by the fence, a native evergreen. It is full and thick so it is hard to see the birds, but I can hear them, and some come to my deck for feeders and the bath and for awhile will distract me from pining for another missed book fair. ( and now that I’ve got that out of my system, I am enchanted by the poem and will repost)
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Beautiful, Barb. Thank you.
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A willow weeps poetry, so why not a sparrow? The sorrowful boy of this poem will haunt me. Nine years have gone since that fair. What destination has he reached? What grief faced? Did he find a place where hope could open its pages for him? Poetry re-charges the possibilities. Open a book of it and you may find that sparrow’s chirp.
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Beautiful, Jim. Thank you!
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Yes, I think that sparrow was on his shoulder.
I’ve often asked students what kind of tree they imagine a po-eh-tree to be. Often it is an evergreen or a centuries-old oak that has seen storms and sun. Sometimes a weeping willow.
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What a profound question to ask students. Thank you, Luray!
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Straight out lovely!
Somehow every element breathes into my heart and mind. Wavelength is what we share. Maybe it is Spring and the balance between light and dark brings such poetry on between voice and eye. Let it come!
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Since I didn’t go to AWP which starts today, I thought I’d share with you a poem about a different book fair.
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i’ve been to that fair with every book I’ve ever published. They say half a million people go there over the 10 days.
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I still hope to get to AWP someday.
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