Fragments from Vision of the Children of Evil

 

 

Music
enclosed harmonies open cupolas
Ravings launched toward the future.

 

La Fortaleza mística es el corazón Iluminado [The mystic fortress is the illuminated heart]. Dec. 6, 1966. Miguel Ángel Bustos (courtesy of Emiliano Bustos).

 

1

Outside I hear the rain, inside I feel the rain. My clay body dissolves.

 

3

My death is the only truth I possess, my life the only lie.

 

5

This frightening reliquary of pain: the deluded memory.

 

6

The years of fat cattle are the fever’s mirages.

 

9

Write when possible. Write when impossible. Love silence.

 

12

Kill the bird. Keep the song.

 

13

The Holy Spirit to Mary: I’ll make you conceive but you’ll remain a virgin so I won’t be jealous of myself.

     

14

Where will madness drive me if not to the heart of men?

 

15

The god of antimatter fears falling into the hell of matter.

 

25

From heaven, Herod has cried out to you: Virgin, Virgin, strangle your son. Rule only in the plains of Hell.

 

26

All mothers kill their sons with the knives of their nipples.

 

28

Attention, roses of future springs: I’m taking the sun.

 

29

Silence. The dead are listening to you.

 

38

Listen, dawn. Listen, I’m dying.

 

39

Who seeks death? My memory.

 

40

Lord feel the beating of my whip. Lord feel my heart.

 

43

Listen, it’s simple. It was thrown on me. I was dust, I am time.

 

46     

I have descended to my soul. I have seen myself, crucified.

 

47

I want to be eternal as if I were never born.

 

48

I’m sick and life is her name.

 

49

What is the body if not a nocturnal dawn?

 

Guerrero Mexicano (adorador de Huitzilopochtli [Mexican warrior (adorer of Huitzilopochtli)]. Feb. 7, 1969. Miguel Ángel Bustos (courtesy of Emiliano Bustos).

 

52

Lord, Lord, I’m disguised as a virgin. Conceive in me a creator. Over the horizon the Cross awaits the last dawn.

 

58

As blasphemy grows I feel myself pray.      

 

64

Tiger, rough grille before the terrible shadow.

 

65

Roar, sacrifice, for the forests have died and you no longer exist.

 

66

Over the board, the wind of a flattened tree is released.

 

67

Just as mothers like flowers, I sow shrieks in the seas.

 

68

Madness of Don Quixote, I invite you to my table. Let us break bread, speak of broken lances.

 

71

Don’t greet me by doffing your hat—your freed forehead might run away.

 

76

Face in profile, fleeing bone.

 

77

Every horse carries the shadow of a desperate jockey.

 

81

Honeysuckle, your son has grown.

 

82

Am I a verb that makes sense or just a senseless verb?

 

86

Hell: that rib we’re missing.

 

87

I draw suns because I can’t see the day.

 

89

I fear dreams, I fear insomnia. I fear insomniac dreams, dreaming insomnia.

 

94

I don’t see—I eat radiance.

 

95

Cain, where is the boy you once were?

 

112

Write celestial poetry with demonic words or better yet speak of Hell with the high purity of a god. Or hang yourself—make both poetries!

 

115

Houses have doors so that children can enter and the dead can leave.

 

116

The corpse is a child that doesn’t play.

The madman is a child that plays while wounded.

The child is a child that childs.

 

118

The tiger has no other god than his teeth.

 

122

Salvation, bastard daughter of the abyss.

 

Translated by Lucina Schell

Originally published in Visión de los hijos del mal. Buenos Aires: Sudamericana, 1967

English edition published by co•im•press, 2018
 

Languages

Ida Vitale in LALT
Number 12

In our twelfth issue, we pay homage to two giants of Latin American letters: Ida Vitale of Uruguay, winner of the 2018 Miguel de Cervantes Prize, and Julio Ramón Ribeyro of Peru, whose work we celebrate on the ninetieth anniversary of his birth. We also feature poetry, interviews, and stories that range from the Caribbean to the Andes and from Central American to Brazil, exclusive book previews and reflections from translators, and a special section dedicated to the work of Edwin Lucero Rinza, a young poet who recently published the first ever verse collection in Kañaris Quechua.

Table of Contents

Editor's Note

Featured Author: Ida Vitale

Dossier: Julio Ramón Ribeyro

Interviews

Essays

Chronicles

Fiction

Brazilian Literature

Poetry

Indigenous Literature

On Translation

Previews

Nota Bene