Showing posts with label because reality is reducible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label because reality is reducible. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Epitafio del hipócrita (Epitaph of a Hypocrite) by Rosario Castellanos

 

Epitafio del hipócrita (Epitaph of a Hypocrite)

Quería y no quería.
Quería con su piel y con sus uñas,
con lo que cambia y cae; negaba con ‘sus vísceras,
con lo que de sus vísceras no era aserrín, con todo
lo que latía y sangraba en sus entrañas.

Quería ser él y el otro.
Siamés partido a la mitad, buscaba
la columna de hueso para asirse, colgar
su cartilaginosa consistencia de hiedra.

Mesón desocupado,
actor, daba hospedaje al agonista.
Gesticulaba viendo su sombra en las paredes,
deglutía palabras sin sabor, eructaba
resonando en su vasta oquedad de tambor.

Ensayaba ademanes
–heroico, noble, prócer–
para que al desbordarse la lava del elogio
lo cubriera cuajando después en una estatua.

No a solas inunca a solas!
dijo el brindis final,
alzó la copa amarga de cicuta.

(Mas no bebió su muerte sino la del espejo).

 

Epitaph of a Hypocrite

He wanted and he did not want.
He wanted with his skin and with his nails,
with that which changes and falls; he denied with his guts, with all of his gut
that was not sawdust, with all
that throbbed and bled in his entrails!

He wanted to be him and another.
Siamese twins parted in the middle, he searched
the column of bone to seize it, to hang
his cartilage like the consistency of ivy.

Empty inn,
an actor, he gave lodging to the agonized.
He gestured, watching his shadow on the walls,
swallowed words without flavor, belched
resounding in his vast drum hollow.

He tested gestures
–heroic, noble, illustrious–
so as to be overcome by the lava of praise
covering him, congealing afterward into a statue.

Not alone, never alone!
He said the final toast,
raised the bitter glass of hemlock.

(But he did not drink his death, rather that of the mirror).

Charla (Talk) by Rosario Castellanos

 

Charla (Talk)

…porque la realidad es reducible
a los ultímos signos
y se pronuncia en s6lo una palabra …

Sonríe el otro y bebe de su vaso.
Mira pasar las nubes altas del mediodía
y se siente asediado (bugambilia, jazmín,
rosal, dalias, geranios,
flores que en cada pétalo van diciendo una sílaba
de color y fragancia)
por un jardín de idioma inagotable.

 

Talk

…because reality is reducible,

ultimately, to signs,
and is pronounced in only one word …

The other smiles and sips from a glass.
Watches the passage of tall midday clouds
and feels bothered (bougainvillea, jasmine,
roses, dahlias, geraniums,
flowers of which each petal is speaking a syllable
of color and fragrance)
by a garden of inexhaustible language.

Why is truth not allowed to exist anymore?

 Why is truth not allowed to exist anymore? Why is basic reality banned from our lives? Nobody believes in basic logic anymore! Truth judges...