mercredi 2 mai 2007

Elías' texts

It hadn’t started to dawn when the last piece of bread on the island became lava in my hands. I was roaring like an arrogant beast, showing my fangs to the sea wind, losing my temper because of the salt I was breathing.
And I went directly down to the beach, I walked with my feet raping the black dunes. And the waves were also roaring, they roared with the intention of heaping enormous quantities of dark sand in my breast, going through my skin with their anger.
I went down to the seaside with the intention of drinking the ocean. I wanted a daybreak with revenge in my lips even though I could die inebriated and unable to give birth. I went down to the shore with the intention of swallowing the sea.
But on the beach I found a jewel, a divinity made of cloth. A pagan doll that came up among my strikes against the perpetual water. I took her in my arms and then I could never after leave her.
I wish constantly that night falls and the hunger exhausts my reasoning. At dusk she becomes a light bulb, and I dance around her, flying as a hypnotised mother.

* * * *

I was here.
I was here when the snow was silencing the breast of the innocence. Those were times when words sounded with a voice like a bell and crossed the infinity searching for a skin to leave a kiss burning as a drum and to awake the expression and the breathing of the time. My hands danced in the sky, catching and freeing the heartbeats of the air.
I was here.
I was here when the earth was dreaming with fertility. Then I was a thought as music. And my dance was the heartbeats of the air.
I was here.
I was here when my body was a portrait of absence and silence. Those were days of anxious rhymes dressed with a memory just about to break the hypnosis of the winter and to fly away to a fire of bells and a dance of pendulums drawing the expression of the universe. My hands moved in the sky, gathering and enjoying the heartbeats of the air.

Elías Portela-Fernandez, 2005
(Elías comes from Galicia, Spain, and is now living in Reykjavík, Iceland)

7 commentaires:

Princess Haiku a dit…

Beautiful and poetic text.

Livia Salome Gnos a dit…

yes, this is really some kind of a magic language

antonia a dit…

"I wanted white and ice for as far as the eye could see, and I wanted it in the one place in the world that was uninhabited. I wanted a place where Sister Winniki couldn't exist. I wanted my white bedroom extended beyond reason. That was Antarctica, and only Antarctica."
this is a quote from the Jenny Diski book about Antartica. She makes a journy to it in order to find this whiteness and it is not fiction, she really did go there.

and this above is very nice. I go and check whether this is in the library...feel really in the mood for this.

Princess Haiku a dit…

That is a beautiful comment from, Antonia.

Noereboiriñas a dit…

Simply beautiful.

Anonyme a dit…

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Anonyme a dit…

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