Remember, body - Carmen Ollé

Remember now, defeated by his scorn and parting,
those moments at the ridiculous motel with painted
orange blossoms and jazmines.

Q’esintuu - Odi Gonzales

no longer rooted in me no longer
is the roaring force
of a horn blower

Path to the Huacas - Nora Alarcón

Route of the potato
life created
in the land of the morochucos
an offering to Apu Pariahunca
before the harvesting of the native potatoes

Les Amoureux - Salò Tomoe

Dawn inundating the streets, you and I
never cease to adore each other, you and I
running through dead-end streets, you and I

Havana Jetty 1985 - Roger Santiváñez

She had her jumpsuit set on the shore
Its chimera calmed in the shadow
Of the bank sang with Fierro on guitar
And the silence sounded the air entranced

The Last Supper Cathedral of Cusco - Odi Gonzales

Blindly attributed
to the Chiaroscurists of San Blas
to the Anonymous One of Maras
to the Master of Taray 
                                    a little something
I have to say:
                        this painting
came from my own hands: I  alone
painted, prepared, set forth the Sacred Meal

                                                            Here
the cunning Indian painter – the Anonymous One of the Cathedral –
in a flight of ecstasy
added from his own stores
hearty stews and the fruits of his harvest:

            in place of
the traditional bread – flat and unleavened --
he set upon on the paschal table
roasted cuy, stuffed spicy peppers
as if the Upper Room were not in the Holy Land

                                                but more likely
in cozy tavern in Cusco, let’s say
                                    “La Chola.”

---

Odi Gonzales (born 1962) Peru
Translated by Lynn Levin
Source: Per Contra, Winter 2007-2008

• Maras - A small Andean town in what is now known as the Sacred Valley of Peru. Before the Spanish conquest, this region was the center of the Inca civilization.
• Taray - A village in the Sacred Valley of Peru.
• Cuy - Guinea pig, a staple of the Andean diet.
• Chola - An affectionate name for an indigenous Andean girl or woman.

 

To my son - Luis M. Valdiviezo Arista

I want to teach you to walk
Between the stony life
And the liquid death
With a flaming smile

The bliss of Heaven - Anonymous

The bliss of Heaven,

I will worship you a thousandfold,

Revered fruit of a mature tree,

Long awaited by your people,

Protection of spiritual strength,

Heed my call.

To be word - Renato Sandoval

So,

in the word I have

no age, no more nor less,

neither skin nor open bone,

El Charro - José Santos Chocano

A coat of silk, cheap jewels he loves to flaunt,

Some tawdry lace that serves him for a frill:

He grasps a pistol butt, and seems to taunt

The world and grip it in his ugly will.

The Magnolia - José Santos Chocano

Deep in the wood, of scent and song the daughter,

Perfect and bright is the magnolia born;

White as a flake of foam upon still water,

White as soft fleece upon rough brambles torn.

You came to lean on a leaf from my body - Emilio Adolfo Westphalen

You came to lean on a leaf from my body

Sweet and heavy drop like the sun over our lives

You brought the scent of wood and the tenderness of a leaning stalk

A Song of the Road - José Santos Chocano

The way was black,

The night was mad with lightning; I bestrode

My wild young colt upon a mountain road.

Hailli 1 - Pachacuti

O Creator, root of all,

Wiracocha, end of all,

Lord in shining garments

who infuses life

and sets all things in order,

A Window in Winter - Sandro Chiri

Through this window

I have seen the rain and snow,

my distant children, an envious

scowl and, far away, a letter

from God on the ground ripped to shreds.

Black Rhythms of Peru - Nicomedes Santa Cruz

Rhythms of slavery
Against bitterness and sorrows.
Keeping time to the beat of the chains
– Black rhythms of Peru.

Triolet - Manuel Gonzalez Prada

Whatever joys might crown this life of ours
will either fail to come or come too late.

Hope - Juan Esteban Yupanqui Villalobos

So I want to see you again
even in my sleep.
You have to know: now again
I grieve for you a lot.

Distant Yet Never So Close - Blanca Varela

distant yet never so close
we walk a sinking earth
lying down on her or simply standing
we feel the bucking of time

Miguel - Cesar Vallejo

I'm sitting here on the old patio
beside your absence. It is a black well.