Landscape With Yellow Birds by Valente, Jose Angel -- Read -- Imperial Library of Trantor

Index

Cover Title Page Copyright Contents Translator’s Preface from A Modo de Esperanza (In a Hopeful Mode, 1953–1954)

“To ashes . . .” The mirror First night Consent The good-bye

from Poemas a Lázaro (Poems for Lazarus, 1955–1960)

Night falls Gateway to sense But no further The vase Rotation of creation Morning

from La Memoria y los Signos (Memory and Signs, 1960–1965)

The signal Beyond the walls The bridge Night before The circle The dying man Only love This image of you Be my limit Sin No man’s land Poet in a time of misery The sacrifice The sign A song

from Siete Representaciones (Seven Representations, 1966)

In the void of love Lazy, warm

from Breve Son (Brief Sound, 1953–1968)

Love is in what we put forward The adolescent Under the water In many moments But you never Today I walked Second homage to Isidore Ducasse

from Presentacíon y Memorial para un Monumento (Presentation and Memorial for a Monument, 1969)

I did not want to be an official

from El Inocente (The Innocent, 1957–1970)

Capsule bio A body has no name The poem The labyrinth

from Treinta y Siete Fragmentos (Thirty-Seven Fragments, 1971)

Now, as I compose with hesitation I will give you a flower The man who came from far away

from Interior con Figuras (Interior with Figures, 1973–1976)

Ceramic with figures on white ground Picasso-Guernica-Picasso: 1973 Desire was a still point Aeneas, son of Anchises, consults the shades Materia Prebeginning

from Material Memoria (Material Memory, 1977–1978)

The angel Figure The way the body of wounded love was opened After awakening While you can tell

from Tres lecciones de tinieblas (Three Lessons of Darkness, 1980)

First Lesson

from Mandorla (Mandorla, 1982)

Latitud Material memory, III The tremor Threshold Poem Death and resurrection

from El Fulgor (The Glow, 1984)

From your hands words are formed

from Al Dios del Lugar (To the God of Place, 1989)

He formed Prostrate while The dark violence

from No Amanece el Cantor (The Singer Does Not Awaken, 1992); PART I: The singer does not awaken

The body of love becomes transparent Amid the slow corruption of days Don’t let yourself die like the prophets of old The patience of the south The sea contained laminated fragments of night And you, soul that offers no relief Immersion of the voice I see, I see Autumn fell like thick yellow drool The center is deserted Characters become erased The sad premeditation of planning The woman’s thighs were long and moist What killed the dinosaurs? Images of images of images Time is clotted with damp lizards and hedgehogs Worn-out gold wrapped in blood Fingers on the drum, the stretched skin Airy filtration of bodies I wanted to write Unter den Linden We have no time to remember In the sky over Paris

from No Amanece el Cantor (The Singer Does Not Awaken, 1992); PART II: Landscape with yellow birds

From your inundated heart The appointed time In the sands I draw a double parallel line Slowly My eyes are suddenly flooded with light Body of a stranger Neither word nor silence It seemed to me now that love Submerged landscape Last afternoon Convergence I thought I knew one of your names A man bears the ashes What, tell me, are those clouds At dusk the unseen hand Now you ache with weariness and pain In the mirror your image has faded Now I know we shared There is a quiet metallic peace Understand that only at the end We exercise a poor meager art What was loneliness Your sign was the moon I am weak I reach out to the shadows I would have been in places I could not figure out Slowly moon followed moon The sinister whiteness of snow Sometimes I feel so close to death How little it serves us to live Now that I am sitting alone

from Fragmentos de un Libro Futuro (Fragments from a Future Book, 1991–2000)

The world is sometimes filled with sadness If there is a moment in the world Time has passed We were in a desert If after death we rise Perhaps in the parched, dark, quick A faint light fallen Saint George is just a kid The level of the shadow Memory opens for us light What remains is fabulation The horses, the gold, the round Somebody tells me When I see you like this, my body, so fallen And all the poems I have written The summit of song

Acknowledgments

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