Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dolores Dorantes

27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up

“27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up. A gust of birds. A handful of girls like flowers. We’re here for your preamble. We walk to you. Some of us arrive late to put on our muzzles. We have a mask of you, of your closed eyes. Someone calculated each face. Goldwork applied painfully onto the skin of sky. Someone’s hand gave form to each lip. It created the lip and stimulated the lip. It created it like a blow. Someone placed on our mask your lip.”

27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up

“27.-Dit zal niet stoppen voordat je wakker bent dus geef je over. Een salvo van vogels. Een handvol schatjes als bloemen. We staan klaar voor jouw proloog. We lopen naar je toe. Sommige van ons komen te laat om de muilkorf op te zetten. We hebben jouw masker op, met jouw gesloten ogen. Iemand heeft elk gezicht berekend. Met pijn uitgevoerde edelsmeedkunst op de huid van de hemel. Iemands hand gaf vorm aan elke lip. Hij schiep de lip en prikkelde de lip. Hij schiep hem als klap. Iemand heeft jouw lip op ons masker gezet.”

“27.-Esto no se va a detener hasta que te despiertes así que ríndete. Una racha de pájaros. Un puñado de nenas como flores. Estamos para tu preámbulo. Caminamos a ti. Unas llegamos tarde para colocarnos el bozal. Tenemos máscara de ti, de tus ojos cerrados. Alguien calculó cada rostro. Orfebrería aplicada con dolor sobre la piel del cielo. La mano de alguien dio forma a cada labio. Creó el labio y estimuló el labio. Lo creó como golpe. Alguien nos colocó en la máscara tu labio.”
Close

27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up

“27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up. A gust of birds. A handful of girls like flowers. We’re here for your preamble. We walk to you. Some of us arrive late to put on our muzzles. We have a mask of you, of your closed eyes. Someone calculated each face. Goldwork applied painfully onto the skin of sky. Someone’s hand gave form to each lip. It created the lip and stimulated the lip. It created it like a blow. Someone placed on our mask your lip.”

27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up

“27.-This is not going to stop until you wake up so give up. A gust of birds. A handful of girls like flowers. We’re here for your preamble. We walk to you. Some of us arrive late to put on our muzzles. We have a mask of you, of your closed eyes. Someone calculated each face. Goldwork applied painfully onto the skin of sky. Someone’s hand gave form to each lip. It created the lip and stimulated the lip. It created it like a blow. Someone placed on our mask your lip.”
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère