RAMINA HERRERA ARTEAGA

 

Prayer To Kabul

 

Kabul

you have my most brilliant star,

allow him to illuminate you,

that you might be caught-up in his love,

that he tells you what he intends,

feel that there is peace in its heart.

 

Kabul, Kabul

be his friend,

his faithful friend,

watch to keep his back safe,

watch also his foot-steps,

that he might return home

safe and sound,

his family awaits him

with a life-long love

in order to embrace him

and never let him go.

 

 

___ ORACIÓN A KABUL

 

Kabul

tienes a mi estrella más brillante,

deja que te ilumine,

que te contagie de su amor,

que te cuente su intención,

siente que hay paz en su corazón.

 

¡Kabul, Kabul!

sé su amigo,

su fiel amigo,

cuida sus espaldas,

cuida sus pasos,

que regrese a casa

sano y salvo,

que su familia lo espera

con el amor de una vida

para poder abrazarlo

y jamás soltarlo._________________________-

 

Poetic Wishes

 

Never were the hours

important for me,

today I count the seconds,

the minutes,

and they all

pass so slowly,

would that the mirror

have the same opinion

and maintain the freshness,

the neurons,

the smile,

the light of your eyes,

because with the heart,

with the heart

one doesn’t quarrel,

it can´t, never had control.

—The heart will always be the reflection

of the soul, and the mirror knows it

and doesn’t get involved,

it leaves it intact,

immortal,

because the soul protects it,

and in the end,

and the end is what defines you,

and defines me as a human being,

human with the capacity

to give,

to love,

of being…

May time be my ally

waiting for your steps...

 

DESEOS DE POESÍA

 

Nunca las horas

fueron importantes para mí,

hoy cuento los segundos,

los minutos,

y todos ellos

pasan tan lentos,

ojalá que el espejo

tenga la misma opinión

y mantenga la lozanía,

las neuronas

la sonrisa,

la luz de los ojos,

porque con el corazón,

con el corazón,

no se mete,

no puede, nunca tuvo el control.

—El corazón siempre será el reflejo del alma,

y el espejo lo sabe

y no se inmiscuye,

lo deja intacto,

inmortal,

porque el alma lo protege,

y al final,

y al final es lo que te define

y me define como humano,

humano con capacidad

de dar,

            de amar,

de ser…

 

Que el tiempo sea mi aliado

en la espera de tus pasos…

 

 

Anthill

 

Today my head is like an anthill,

I am the yellow flower

that has fallen into its chambers

and thoughts like ants

they come and go

they come and go

with opposing arguments.

 

What do I do?

Do I let them swarm in my brain

sting my senses

to riot my feelings

to swell my neurons?

 

OR  S-I-M-P-L-E-M-E-N-T

 

I stay still,

as if dead,

so that they may move away

at their own pace,

without feeling

my movement

nor my breath.

 

A bell rings,

a candle is lit

scent of incense

roses

cinnamon

rosemary

my eyes open...

/A-W-A-K-E/

 

HORMIGUERO

 

Hoy mi cabeza esta como hormiguero,

soy la flor amarilla

que cayó en sus aposentos

y los pensamientos cual hormigas

me recorren presurosas

van y vienen

con argumentos opuestos.

 

¡Qué hago!

¿dejo que se atiborren en mi cerebro

que piquen mis sentidos

que alboroten sentimientos

que hinchen mis neuronas?

O   S - I - M - P - L - E - M - E - N -T- E

me quedo quietita,

como muerta,

para que se alejen

a su ritmo,

sin sentir

mi movimiento

ni mi respiro.

 

 

Suena una campana,

se enciende una vela

aroma de incienso

rosas

canela

romero

mis ojos se abren…

/ D-E-S-P-I-E-R-T-O /

RAMINA HERRERA ARTEAGA

 

RAMINA HERRERA ARTEAGA: (Born in Luya, Amazonas, Peru, 1979), is a Business Administrator by profession, graduated from the National University of Trujillo (UNT), the more he feels Poet by vocation. She obtained an honorable mention in the Floral Tales of the UNT 2002. Her poetry book "Memorias de No Nacido" (MEMORIES OF THE UNBORN) was published on line by the magazine "VOCES" of Spain. In 2006 she was included in the anthology " PATHS OF POETRY" (Editorial Fund of the Provincial Municipality of Cajamarca). In 2007 she published the poetry book “NIGHT LONELINESS AND OTHER POEMS” (Katequil Editores), recently published in AMAZON the poetry books: “LEI NAD 42:21”, “MOON WOMAN”, " NIGHT LONELINESS AND OTHER POEMS” second edition (digital); culminating the layout of the poetry books, " CONFESSIONS TO THE DAWN", “RIDING WITH THE WIND” and "MOUNTAIN WOMAN” all books under the editorial seal of EDICIONES KUELAP Lima - Perú. She participates in “GLOBAL POET AND POETRY GROUP” and is an active member of the board of directors and editorial board. She has received many prestigious awards and recognitions for her poetic and narrative writings. The acclaimed and well-known Peruvian poet, William Guillén Padilla writes about her poetry: "We are proud of her maturity and perseverance, eloquent and fluent command of language, for the themes treated and for her manifest lucidity. Ramina Herrera Arteaga, emerges with singular writing, to be registered, by her own merit, in the book of notable Peruvian poetry"

FRANCISCO AZUELA

 

Mayar V

 

Brother,

poet of the early days

when hope ran through you,

the desire to die

under the firs and the rushes.

 

A walnut tree gathered your breath

and you went toward the other dimension of the world

like a little tuberose

which would have lost its scent

like a rifle

that would have lost its charge

like a voice that would have stolen your life,

like a silent volcano

on the road of your homeland.

 

Mayar VIII

 

When the heart of man was ripped out,

he was asleep,

and the day when his veins were opened,

he went absent,

when they killed him, he was

researching his regrets

and when his door was darkened,

he was already afar.

But, when, finally, he discovered silence,

then, poetry was born.

 

Mayar XIV

 

Father,

the storks are dead,

the nightingales

and the cranes of bad omens

are dead themselves as well;

on these rivers loaded with mystery

only pass black birds.

What do you want,

the memory has left for the oceans

we are stones worn down by the wind

and a dream rip hope from us

when we wish to resuscitate memories.

 

Aztecal III

 

Your dog has died,

you buried him with his bones

in the garden of your home,

among the coconut palms

like an close family friend.

 

Your children opened their hands

to tell him goodbye,

the night did not hurt him,

life did not hurt him,

nor his eyes,

we poisoned him to let him rest

in the shadow of the trees.

 

A puppy,

he slept under your bed,

ate a bit of wheat from your lap

like birds,

should he suffer from cold,

you gave him your pillow,

your caramels,

you gave him, in sum,

your dreams to heal him.

 

Tender was his downy skin,

understanding were his eyes;

Oh! friend in the night,

in life, in death.

 

And now, who will your children caress?

Who will  jump the hedge

chasing after a bitch in heat?

Who will be the sentinel of the town?

 

Your dog has died, and with him

you have left behind part of your life.

 

You whistled for him at night,

you thought to have awakened him

when you dreamt that a thief

entered to steal your heart

you kissed him on the mouth.

soaped him up before bathing him,

Oh! you loved him so

that you did not sleep thinking of him.

 

Your friend is gone,

he is dead

and the thrushes,

sing for him each morning.

 

Aztecal IV

 

She did not die from cold nor rain,

she went away sadly left as she fell.

 

She was not the rose on the winds,

that of the great horizons,

nor the rose of Jericho

that returns to life on placing it in water.

She did not know about eternities.

 

It is possible that at some time

she might have had blue eyes when she smiled;

in an instant she made the final voyage

from which one does not return

and learned to weep;

it was something which appeared like a dream.

 

Aztecal VIII

 

In this poem of the dead

your father died

your grandfather and your issue died

and the night ends with a glance.

 

In this poem of the dead

the love of your forebears died,

the birds died

and the star of your forehead silenced itself

like a fistful of sick roses.

 

In this poem of the dead,

your life died

and for the second time, your homeland died

when you remained to contemplate it

like a colorless rainbow.

 

In this poem of the dead,

your blood left you by two blue rivers

and a skeleton of shadows

in your eyes of snow

seeks, despite it all, the liberty of your people.

 

Translation Spanish - English By Margarita Feliciano

 

FRANCISCO AZUELA

 

FRANCISCO AZUELA: Mexican poet and writer (1948). Awarded with one of the 4 Awards granted by a prestigious jury of the California State Polytechnic University, through its Department of English and Foreign Languages (College of Letters, Arts, and Social Sciences), to integrate the Spring Harvest International 2006 / 2007, one of the most prestigious English language editions in the United States. Solenzara International Poetry Grand Prize, Université de la Sorbonne, Paris, France 2013. Finalist of the LAIA 2014. Annual International Literature Contest, Poemas: Ensueño, organized by the Culture department of the Latin American Intercultural Alliance, New York. Vincitori Assoluti XXXV Premio Mundiale di Poesía Nósside, Italy, 2020.Nominations au prix Nobel de littérature 2021.