Three poems by Laura Rodríguez Díaz

Ignacio Oliden

me cubre un perro negro
y aprieto puñados de moras
para que un zumo turbio
llene de sangre el algodón
que me desnuda las piernas
el ángel siempre anuncia
la suciedad pura del verbo
y exclama suavemente
hunde la mejilla en el limo
celebra la mano en la nuca
grita todo el cielo sobre la tierra

solo los lirios tronchados
inician el lenguaje la familia
nuestro deber es perpetuar
esta violencia

a black dog covers me
and I squeeze handfuls of blackberries
so that a murky juice
fills with blood the cotton
that strips my legs bare
the angel always announces
the pure dirt of verb
and softly exclaims
sink the cheek into the mud
celebrate the hand on the nape
scream the whole sky over the earth
only broken lilies
initiate the language the family
our duty is to perpetuate
this violence


cuando estamos cansados
podemos ser una ficción
un animal recién inventado que dispara
al cielo y espera una respuesta
sobre la frente como sucede
en los poemas muy antiguos
donde existen las nubes blancas
y los niños conocen las higueras
porque han probado sus frutos
la palabra es la cosa entonces
nadie abre la boca con los ojos cerrados
nadie descubre que lo terrible
puede empezar y terminar en silencio

when we are tired
we can be a fiction
a newly invented animal that shoots
into the sky and waits for an answer
on its forehead as happens
in very old poems
where white clouds exist
and kids know fig trees
for they have tasted their fruits
so the word is the thing
nobody opens their mouth with the eyes closed
nobody discovers that what’s terrible
can begin and end in silence


cruzo un desierto sin nombre
máscara de todos mis paisajes

busco en él un caballo denso
como la ola que escuchamos
frente a un mar de noche
no lo quiero para poder huir
el caballo no es un camino
es un dedo sobre el mapa
que ya no nos contiene
los cartógrafos recuerdan la edad
con la que dibujaron el mundo
sin embargo no saben qué rostro
tuvimos nosotros entonces

es mi deseo de ver el reflejo
del sol sobre su pelaje
mientras me va cercando la sed
por no haber huido a caballo

I cross a nameless desert
mask of all my landscapes
in search of a horse as dense
as the wave we hear
facing a sea at night
it’s not for running away
the horse is not a road
it’s a finger on a map
that no longer contains us
cartographers remember the age
they had when they drew the world
though they don’t know what face
we had back then

it’s my desire of seeing the reflection
of the sun on its fur
while thirst looms over me
for not having fled on horseback


Laura Rodríguez Díaz (Spain, 1998) has published the poetry collections San Lázaro (Cántico, 2021) and anuncio (Ultramarinos, 2023). She edits the poetry magazine Caracol nocturno. Her poems have appeared in magazines and anthologies in Spain and Hispanic America. She has participated in poetry festivals in Alcalá de Henares, Salamanca and Marbella.

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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