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­Hechizo Para Convocar a los Fantasmas

         [Spell for Summoning Ghosts]

para Pablo Neruda – Sacado a la Luz. Año 2013

 

I was set to write an ode on wandering

When news of your return came through.

It seems lately I’m so often in need of exaltation:

Place and food and sight and light to waft me far from common ground.

 

Master, you sought once to seep down into this one impenetrable world

The one that now shows you a way back           to this residence on earth

By death. Could this be the great secret revealed to you?

 

That the rope of life is from death and therefore life again. ¡Ola!

 

And now drawn back to this world        full of sense for second glance –

From the moist, wild lawn of the striking widow’s psalming lap

 

By a greater poison than any swing-shift medicine man

Could stick you with – his toxins of rotten plums and sumac

 

Soaked with the distemper of feral pussies. ¡Ola!

 

Your pure white bones soon to come apart

In police procedurals and armed forces,

 

Laced with abandon in a white stallion’s mane

Soiled black by dirt made to confront              this old sun again:

 

This white hot harsh bright lamp on Earth for a new daylight’s dead gallop. ¡Ola!

 

Cats no longer hoarse take midnight runs

With half-eaten playthings in tow – for spite,

 

Tampering on the stretched skin of your head riddled with cause,

Whipping up waves on el río Estix like a barcarole of looting Saracens.

 

A force grows strong at each close of your book.

Each line break retraces aquiline.

With touch your hair, and breath your cheek

This genie’s call can bring you back.

 

¡Ola! ¡Ola! ¡Ola! ¡Ola!

– Juan-Paolo Perre

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