Thursday, February 9, 2012

Python

Composed because I'm a bit frustrated with Christianity lately. A lot frustrated. Not just lately. Okay mostly I was frustrated by the hypocrisy of some of the members of my women's spirituality class today.

Translations:

1) They say a long, long time ago
in the world under the ground... (LOL the first couple lines from the film El Laberinto del Fauno...I love that movie ^^)
2) (The title of a poem by Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz) She distrusts, as disguised cruelty,
the solace offered by hope
3) Technically this phrase simply means "dust to dust," but I like the literal Spanish translation much better: Dust you are, and to dust shall you return...
4) (An excerpt from the above-mentioned poem) Who has taken from you [Hope] the name Murderess?
For you are more terrible, when it is known
how you enjoy suspending the soul...

Okay so, long poem.

How do you like the imagery? Does it get too rant-y? Should I make it a TOUCH more subtle?
The Spanish bits - yes/no? good/bad?
The mythology - too much???

All comments appreciated!
PS. I feel sort of bad for using a nun's writings in a poem against Christianity....

PPS. Talk about a patchwork poem. Where do I get all this from???

"Serpiente"

I have done with St. Augustine.
He would have condemned you, Lilith,
would have sought you out in your cave
to prattle at you.
God claimed that he built you
from the dirt,
and for your disobedience
he crowned you with diamond scales,
with coils to ring the world.
Eve consented to silence and thus
was cursed only with the tunnel of pain that is childbirth.

Lilith, dear—
find comfort in your nest,
in your subterranean womb.
    (Cuentan que hace mucho, mucho tiempo
       en el mundo subterraneo…)

You bear the truth in your heart,
as crumbs in your hands
offered palm-up to your Oracles.
Still you are a tree—
apples blossom from your mouth,
whispers of past and future.

You alone could tell us
what a three thousand year old text means.
It has buried its spindly fingers in your brain.

God and his people call morality a simple thing,
clean as the fires of the sun.
Take a deep breath, Lilith my love—
they will call your lilied vapors
poison.
But give us rain clouds,
breathe out whole skies of truth,
scatter the earth with fossils—
handfuls of raining rose petals.
    (Sospecha crueldad disimulada,
        el alivio que la Esperanza da…)


Your time will come.
Beware the sun god,
for he comes not as Apollo,
but as St. George.
He will pin you to the earth,
deny you even the mercy of death throes.

Go not quietly into that cold dawn.
Rage—
rage against the burning of your heart.
I will recite a rosary for you,
a series of lies spilt over your bones
before the Godly come to carry your ashes away.
    (Polvo eres y en polvo
        
te convertirás…)

In quiet, lace-white lamb's clothing
he will rise from the desert sands
and slouch patiently
towards Bethlehem to be born
beneath a sky red with fire.

    (¿quién te ha quitado el nombre de homicida?
    Pues lo eres más severa, si se advierte
    que suspendes el alma entretenida…)

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