2 poems in translation by Cindy Rinne

Somewhat Strong

I have always been told I am strong.

Yes, I am strong; I can hold my legs against 

the wall for twenty minutes, I can lower them slowly

for ten more.

I can do headstands, even though I do not like them. 

I can walk far distances wearing high heles.

But the anguish of others devastates me.

The vértigo of lies torments me.

Falsehoods cause my legs to weaken.

A stab in the back leaves me immobile.

I am strong because they say I am.

I would prefer not to be strong and to bow to the caress

of a protecting eagle. I would prefer that no greed

nor deceit exist, instead, walk through the forest

without heels, and see that someone from afar

perceives me. I know the stars assign me

letters and symbols. That is why I paste onto the poem

pauses of lagoons, and the insomnia

of visions. Maybe, I am a bit strong

because I do love the laughter of reconciliation

between red moons and the stars.

Algo fuerte

Siempre me han dicho que soy fuerte.

Sí soy fuerte, puedo sostener mis piernas contra

la pared por más de veinte minutos. Puedo bajarlas lentamente

y sostenerlas por unos diez minutos más.

Puedo pararme de cabeza aunque no me gusta.

Puedo caminar lejos y con tacones.

Pero el dolor del prójimo me desvanece.

El vértigo de la mentira me atormenta.

Todo tipo de falsedad debilita mis piernas.

Una puñalada en la espalda me deja inmóvil.

Sí soy fuerte porque así dicen que soy.

Prefiriera no ser fuerte y doblegarme a la caricia

de un águila centinela. Prefiriera que no hubiese

ni codicia ni engaño, y caminar por el bosque

sin tacones, ver que alguien desde lejos

me deletrea. Sé que las estrellas me designan

letras y símbolos. Por eso pegoteo en el poema

las pausas de las lagunas, y el insomnio

de las visiones. Capaz soy un poco fuerte,

porque me encanta la risa de reconciliación

entre las lunas rojas y las estrellas.

Temple

The first sigh begins in the eye of the sun.

I quickly descend the stairs, 

and the dust reveals the road. 

Receive the breath from heaven

and time is erased. 

The alphabet drizzles upon my crowned body. 

The circle of destiny speaks with me. 

I search for secret names in the other face of time. 

The star is darkened. 

I recreate myself in the clouds of day. 

I retreat gracefully among the lyres, 

and am filled with astral signs.

Templo

El primer suspiro comienza en el ojo del sol.

Desciendo la escalera a una velocidad inefable,

y el polvo abre el camino. 

Recibo el aliento del cielo

y el tiempo se borra. 

El alfabeto llovizna sobre mi cuerpo coronado. 

El círculo del destino habla con migo mismo. 

Busco los nombres secretos en la otra cara del tiempo. 

La estrella se oscurece. 

Me invento en las nubes del día. 

Me retiro esbelta de liras,

y llena de signos astrales.

Ivonne Gordon Carrera Andrade

The Translator

Ivonne Gordon Carrera Andrade was born in Ecuador. She is a poet, literary critic, and literary translator. She has a Ph.D. in Latin American Literature, and a University Professor in her field of research. She has published several books of poetry, a book of critical essays on Gabriela Mistral.

About the contributor

Cindy Rinne creates art and writes in San Bernardino, CA. Cindy is the author of several books: Knife Me Split Memories (Cholla Needles Press), Letters Under Rock with Bory Thach, (Elyssar Press), Mapless with Nikia Chaney (Cholla Needles Press), and others.www.fiberverse.com

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