The Ofi Press Magazine

By Violeta Peláez, Mexico (Published in Issue 12)

Translated by Adam Fry, UK/ Mexico

 Sin título

Lejos estoy, lejos de tu alma. Ni una lágrima rota por el viento te conmueve. Ni un

beso, ni una flor, ni una mirada. Eres una roca, un corazón que besa lluvia y no se 

desangra.

que no habla ni enmudece, que no sonrie ni transpira, ni se acaba.

Eres un río. Callado y profundo que te meces. y yo me ahogo en tu correr de alma,

y al nadar contracorriente me sumerjo, y al salir de nuevo tu me atrapas.

Átame a tu sombra azul que me apuñala, yo he buscado la muetre entre tus

brazos, me he acercado a tu piel viendo a lo lejos, tu foto familiar hecha pedazos.

Quiero lavarme tu esencia aventurera, quiero tirarme al vacio de tu figura, quiero

alejarme y pensarte por las noches, y despertarme con el polvo de tu ausencia.

Abofetéame que estoy viviendo un sueño, lava mi cara al despertar para perderme.

Untitled

I’m far away, far from your soul. Not even a tear, shed upon the wind, moves you. Not even a kiss, or a

flower, not even a look. You are stone, a bloodless heart of stormy kisses.

You are a river. Silent and deep you flow, whilst I drown beneath the current of your soul. I, when trying to

swim upstream get sucked under, I, who upon escaping find myself trapped again.

Tie me to your cerulean shadow that hurts me so, I have found death in your arms, I have gotten closer, closer

to your skin whilst I look away into the distance, your family portrait shattered to pieces.

I want to wash any trace of your swashbuckling spirit from my skin, to throw myself into the abyss of your

body, to go far, far away and think of the nights, and to wake beside the dust of your absence.

Pinch me, tell me I’m living a dream, splash my face when I wake so that I may lose myself.

Sin título

Con mis súper poderes cósmicos leo la mente, leo tu suerte, veo mi imagen en el

espejo del destino, invisible a los ojos mortales, así; véanme los maestros

ascendidos, véanme los locos, los que pintan poderosos la antimateria, soy

transparente a los rayos neón de los artífices del universo, visible a los amos del 

control mental, mi luz guía piedras preciosas,

incandescentes explotan convirtiendo

en magia el aire, chispas brillantes, dorado pensamiento articulando la galaxia...

invisible en tu idioma incomprensible. Las lenguas de fuego vienen a mi.

--

Violeta Peláez is a writer, poet and graphic designer. She currently works for a
jewellery company where she writes and coordinates the communication area, creating and
developing a Fantasy Blog. More of her work can be found at:
http://www.grupojoskes.com.mx/wordpress/

Adam Fry (translator) recently graduated from Newcastle University and now works in Mexico for the Clipperton Project as their education officer. www.clippertonproject.com

Violeta lives in Mexico City and is a member of The Ofi Press Poetry Circle, a regular
meeting of poets and writers held in the centre of Mexico City.