Poem
Ángela García
3
When flesh opens it hurts. A scratch, an incision, a wound, a prick. A needle, sharp fuzz, a razor or dagger. Outside of the nine orifices another painless orifice is impossible. All exposed humor or lymph burns like living flame. The pain does not go away with soap, or a solution or a cream like applying make up. One does not get rid of pain with a bandage. So much pain in the world! So many open wounds! These accompanied by the will to heal. These accompanied by the death wish…But every open wound claims solidarity with the rest of the body. And every wound inhales its medicine from time, inhales the combat with unhealthiness, breathes in what is healthy in order to stanch itself. Pain tends to the elimination of pain. The wound tends to the elimination of the wound. Like guardians: pain and the wound.
When a wound or pain is endured, life becomes jealous and acts like a drug in its double sense, either narcotic or curative. All that is open must close again. The body tends to compact itself. The body revolts in order to be firm, to assemble itself.
© Translation: 2008, Nicolás Suescún
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Cuando la carne se abre duele. Un raspón, incisión, herida, picadura. Una aguja, pelusilla espada, cuchilla o daga. Aparte de los nueve orificios es imposible sin dolor un orificio más. Todo humor o linfa al descubierto arde como llama viva. Y no se quita el dolor con jabón, o con solución o crema como se hace con el maquillaje. No se desprende uno del dolor como si fuera un vendaje. ¡Cuánto dolor en el mundo! ¡Cuántas heridas abiertas! Aquellas acompañadas por la voluntad de sanar. Aquellas acompañadas por el deseo de muerte...Pero toda herida abierta clama solidaridad del resto del cuerpo. Y toda herida respira del tiempo su medicina, respira de lo malsano el combate, respira de lo sano para cerrarse. El dolor tiende a la eliminación del dolor. La herida tiende a la eliminación de la herida. Como guardianes el dolor y la herida.
Cuando suceden la herida o el dolor la vida se vuelve celosa y cuida como una droga con su doble sentido, narcótico o cura. Todo debe cerrarse de nuevo. El cuerpo tiende a compactarse. El cuerpo se amotina para su firmeza, para su ensamblaje.
© 1999, Ángela García
From: Notas para un actor
Publisher: First published on PIW,
From: Notas para un actor
Publisher: First published on PIW,
Poems
Poems of Ángela García
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When flesh opens it hurts. A scratch, an incision, a wound, a prick. A needle, sharp fuzz, a razor or dagger. Outside of the nine orifices another painless orifice is impossible. All exposed humor or lymph burns like living flame. The pain does not go away with soap, or a solution or a cream like applying make up. One does not get rid of pain with a bandage. So much pain in the world! So many open wounds! These accompanied by the will to heal. These accompanied by the death wish…But every open wound claims solidarity with the rest of the body. And every wound inhales its medicine from time, inhales the combat with unhealthiness, breathes in what is healthy in order to stanch itself. Pain tends to the elimination of pain. The wound tends to the elimination of the wound. Like guardians: pain and the wound.
When a wound or pain is endured, life becomes jealous and acts like a drug in its double sense, either narcotic or curative. All that is open must close again. The body tends to compact itself. The body revolts in order to be firm, to assemble itself.
© 2008, Nicolás Suescún
From: Notas para un actor
From: Notas para un actor
3
When flesh opens it hurts. A scratch, an incision, a wound, a prick. A needle, sharp fuzz, a razor or dagger. Outside of the nine orifices another painless orifice is impossible. All exposed humor or lymph burns like living flame. The pain does not go away with soap, or a solution or a cream like applying make up. One does not get rid of pain with a bandage. So much pain in the world! So many open wounds! These accompanied by the will to heal. These accompanied by the death wish…But every open wound claims solidarity with the rest of the body. And every wound inhales its medicine from time, inhales the combat with unhealthiness, breathes in what is healthy in order to stanch itself. Pain tends to the elimination of pain. The wound tends to the elimination of the wound. Like guardians: pain and the wound.
When a wound or pain is endured, life becomes jealous and acts like a drug in its double sense, either narcotic or curative. All that is open must close again. The body tends to compact itself. The body revolts in order to be firm, to assemble itself.
© 2008, Nicolás Suescún
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