Four poems by Cristina Cavazos

Ignacio Oliden

Nazco en el infortunio
del 7 el día de las
hojas muertas.
El cielo estalla su furia contra
mí mientras me trago el llanto
y memorizo el viacrucis del silencio.

Mi padre, mi abuela paterna y las
libretas me rescatan del instinto
suicida.
Levito en la víspera de
encontrarme sintiendo el olor
agrio de los años
volviendo una y mil veces al espiral de mi reflejo.


I’m born in the disgrace
of the 7th day of
dead leaves.
The sky explodes its fury against
me while I swallow my cry
and memorize the viacrucis of silence.

My father, his mother and the
notebooks save me from the suicidal
instinct.
I float in the eve of
finding myself feeling the sour
smell of the years
coming back one time
and a thousand more to the spiral of my reflection.



Nido de boas

Al fondo
bajo el bulto de mis
complejos siempre está mi
madre tejiéndome bufandas
de colores.
Yo las uso siempre como recordatorio
de quién debo ser, para no desilusionarla.
Todo el mundo me pregunta dónde las
consigo. Les parecen hermosas, perfectas y
coloridas; Mi madre gana una vez más.
Por las noches al llegar a casa
me desenredo la bufanda del cuello
la boto por cualquier sitio, al fin respiro.


Boa nest

Deep down
beneath the lump of my
complexes there's my
mother knitting colorful
scarves.
I always wear them as a reminder
of whom I’m meant to be, so I don’t let her down.
Everybody asks me where I get them
from. They say they are beautiful, perfect, and
colorful; my mother wins again.
By night when coming home
I untangle it
and I toss it anywhere, I finally breathe.



Semilla

Era marzo

cuando te supe dentro
recuerdo tus latidos
retumbando en mí todas las
noches. Me rescataste,
así comencé a ver luz al cerrar los ojos.

Tu nombre lo lleva como sello del sol y de la luna,
cuando te observo
solo puedo
preguntarme cómo
algo tan muerto
pudo dar vida.


Seed

It was March

when I knew you deep
I remember your heartbeat
inside me every
night. You rescued me,
and I began to see the light when I closed my eyes.

Your name carries it like a stamp of sun and moon,
when I watch you
I can only
ask myself how
such a dead thing
was able to give life.



A mi hija

La sombra violeta del verano

intenta protegerte con la seda del sol.

Te tragas amuletos verdes que albergan tu boca

y no permiten que salga el dolor añejo de otras vidas. Mis cicatrices temen por ti,
por eso paso cada momento custodiando tus sonrisas, llega la noche y te veo descansando,
entonces me arrepiento de declararle la guerra a la vejez que se marca ya en mi piel
y dejo que la vida navegue en alta mar

mientras intento perdonar mi juventud llena de heridas. Recuerdo por instantes el temor de tu llegada,
miro al cielo como quien en cada copa de los arboles
al tocar el cielo, manda una señal de vértigo que lleva tu nombre.

To my daughter

The purple summer shadow

tries to protect you with the sun silk.

You swallow green amulets held by your mouth

preventing the rise of the old pain of other
lives. My wounds fear for you,
that’s why I spend each moment watching over your
smiles, night comes and I see you resting,
and I regret having declared war on the
old age marked on my skin
and I let life sail on the high seas

while I try to forgive my wounded childhood.
I remember at times the fear of your arrival,
I look up as someone who in each treetop that touches
the sky, sends a whirl message that carries your name.


Cristina Cavazos, from Matamoros, Tamaulipas Mexico. She has a degree in Humanistic and Social Studies from UDEM (Universidad de Monterrey). She is a writer, a teacher in literary workshops, a Professor of Literature, Philosophy and Art, and an entrepreneur. She holds a Master degree in Poetry from the Escuela de Escritores in Madrid. She has published in several magazines from Spain and Mexico.
This poems are part of her first book of poetry, Espiral (Buenos Aires Poetry, 2023).

Ignacio Oliden

Ignacio Oliden (Buenos Aires, 1997) is a poet, translator and literary critic. He is Co-Editor in Chief of the literary magazine La Piccioletta Barca, and is a member of the editorial comittee of Buenos Aires Poetry (magazine and publishing house). He also writes poetry criticism in the Culture Supplement of the newspaper Perfil (Argentina). His work has appeared in print in newspapers, anthologies, and literary magazines in various countries, and his poetry has been translated into English, Italian and Greek. He has published a book-length anthology of the poets of the Harlem Renaissance (Poetas del Renacimiento de Harlem, 2023, in collaboration with Juan Arabia). Mester de Juglaría, his first poetry compilation, will be published by Buenos Aires Poetry by the end of 2023.

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