100 Refutations: Day 69 | InTranslation
María Teresa Ogliastri was born in Los Teques, Venezuela, and lives in Caracas. She is the author of five collections of poetry: Del diario de la señora Mao (From the Diary of Madame Mao, 2011); Polo Sur (South Pole, 2008); Brotes de Alfalfa (Alfalfa Sprouts, 2007); Nosotros los inmortales (We, the Immortals, 1997); and Cola de Plata (Silver Tail, 1994). She has been featured at poetry festivals throughout Latin America, and her poems appear in several anthologies of contemporary Venezuelan poetry. She is a professor of philosophy at the Central University of Venezuela.
from the article:
Return to the Countryside
Women pounded the grain for a vegetable stew
night was imminent they had to hurry because lanterns were forbidden
when the gong called for dinner the soldiers did not share the meal with the peasants
the next morning half of them had denounced their parents the other half wore posters on their bodies condemned to certain death
the order was to climb the mountain to live up in the heights among the lowliest but the sky answered with floods
so they returned to the cities looking for carrion
that was my army ravenous crows
Rationing
In the line a woman shouts there’s flour
I think of warm biscuits
Soon I hear only rice is left but my happiness is futile
They’re bringing sugar Oh! miracle I will wait I hear words ricochet the sugar is gone
The line begins to disperse
I persist eventually they will bring something finally a hand offers me a chicken I leave with my treasure
In a bookstore nearby a friend has the nerve to read me a long poem the poet doesn’t know why I flee such an ordinary goodbye fills me with guilt
You must live in a country with hunger to understand how a poem’s symmetry can be broken by the slow drip of guts and blood