Wednesday, November 29, 2006

El eterno femenino me habló

Canción del Apocalipsis en Parque Rivadavia

Earth has changed
we have dissapointed Earth.

We smashed the flowers of her backyard

we broke her windows...

she is old and get tired of us
her stupid childs
her spoilded stupids childs:

beyond the light
and the dark sky like an ecco



with names
and ages
and rules and sizes
that don´t fit at all

she listen to our rocks-hearts
spinning so far from her rock-heart.

She is like a mother getting conscious.


upon a time
don´t remember when
can´t remember when

we used to walk between her fresh
whispered voice
like the sea wind, but not,

but similar

to the sea wind and the sea

We invent things.
Things are an invent.

Grief is an invent.
Happyness is an invent.

A Dove (“dove” is an invent) died
in the mouth of a cat
a minute ago.

I saw her wings struggling

but not sad

and her death was not sad
and the cat was not evil

and both of them don´t feel anything

but life and no life

without a theory

or a moral

or something worse.


I heard my rock-heart beaten
inside my rock-chest resting


and there was a music in the glowing sun

and there was a music in the shinning fever

of the mind

and I translate it

to me:

“Where are you, darling?”
“Come, come in and eat supper”


She´s like a mother getting conscious.

Maybe she want to be alone again.
Maybe, she has regrets.

I don´t know

too much for a single
human being.

Noelia Rivero
Octubre/Noviembre 2006
(surgida instantáneamente bajo los efectos del sol y las familias paseantes)


caron said...

qué estupendo, qué estupendo tener dos lenguas
(sabés qué placeres proporcionaríamos)

Miss Banfield said...

mitad de lengua!! creo que está lleno de errores... voÇe es experta, tache lo que no corresponda!!!!!!!!!!