poetry

The Mandala
from Amor sin fin
(Forever Love)

by Claribel Alegría
for Bud

¡Sí, es azul, tiene que ser azul!

– José Gorostiza

I can’t free myself from my boredom entwined the joy

always completing circles pizpizigaña and drew your singing
swallowing myself juguemos la araña* with crests of words
like the serpent mandrakes opening in colors
swallows its tail. fireflies the coarse beauty
I’m scarcely a dream sirens of stones
of some trivial unicorns that convert to flames
poet poems that start and get inside me
a flying carpet but don’t end and I rejoice
that discovers trails the poem, even though they burn me
then loses them. the poem I sing
I am the voice that calls me I’ll never finish and sing.
and I don’t decipher it catches up I oppose those
the flame and abandons me who think love is docile
that ignites hides in debris it appears as it wishes
and lies hidden Ali Baba’s caves without being called
my mandala covers me blurred faces and rises and falls
drifts away scattered numbers – and transforms itself
returns the one that reigns is the five and dies
you are at the center petals that one day and resurrects sometimes
holding a sword will dance on my grave and doesn’t die.
and a flower you will be my juggler Love is pain
surrounded by drawings and always were joy
that trouble me you sang my sadness the ego altered
spider webs our love surrender

38 WLT MAY – JUNE 2018

possession her name of my earthly
enjoyment Matarilililili. wandering.
and yoke I’m exiled
mystery Was the she-wolf mocking? in this threshold
and battle April is the cruellest month my sense of smell revives
prison horror Was her gaze one of mockery my ghosts
desire to escape and not love? the city of my childhood
vigil I’ve always been fearful its markets –
and dream prophesying deceits no rumor subdues
a challenge to life and disasters its rumors,
and death. believed by no one. no aroma
I’m Cassandra its aromas.
What’s wrong with my love? suddenly Don’t say anything
It’s turned to violet: silent free the heart
an inescapable I’m the she-wolf Cassandra to travel
interlude. and just howl and travel
amazed by the world to ask death,
Passions rule me that worsens day by day. who is alive,
I don’t reason How do I sing this for that final kiss
reason my minstrel? it craves.
confuses me I don’t want you to sing it Let it drink the air
and I sing your lips will wrinkle drink the green
and sing, become white that surrounds it.
“What’s your name? the horror and rage My life flickers
Matarilililili.”+ will move you away from me. I burn with desire
My mandala envelops me – explore new worlds
I go on I discovered recently – see them with my ear
among scorpions the sun was crimson. savoring their skin
wounds When did you arrive? with the febrile tips
and silhouettes You are the center of my fingers.
herds of giraffes what matters is the search I want to liberate the heart
trying to reach and that leap toward the search from lament
the stars. challenges us. images
I light my lamp again Navigating between light vestiges
light the caves and dark so it plunges naked
that guard my mandala there are floating memories: into the void
my mandala a challenge Izalco, so it goes mad
a hideout Momotombo whistles
I don’t understand it Machu Picchu hurls its accumulated love
an infinite those are my riches at the spheres.
puzzle the memories that float
my whole life there and never die Translation from the Spanish
all my I they cover me By George Evans & Daisy Zamora
the caves hold dreams reveal me
that burst I have seen my mandala * pizpizigaña / juguemos la araña: A rhyme
into my dreams at last I’ve seen you from the Central American children’s game
I feel like the character you ignore my questions Pizpizigaña.
of an impersonal tale but I know you are me + What’s your name? / Matarilililili: A
who searches my compass fragment of song dialogue from the Central
and searches my map American children’s game Matarilililili.
but never finds anything the gypsy
not even the obsessive traces

WORLDLIT.ORG 39
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