I’ve been a bit slow on the translation front. I’ve been working on a selection of poems from Cuba’s Georgina Herrera. This writer really captivated my interest when I was studying in Cuba for my doctoral research. Her slim paperback volumes were on display at UNEAC in the Vedado and my favourite poetry bookstore in La Habana, Fayad Jamis, in old Havana. Here is a … Continue reading Poetry for the Peeps! Georgina Herrera
Today, I’ve chosen a child’s memory of Christmases past, not in Wales, but in Cuba. Daughter of poet Eliseo Diego, Josefina de Diego’s prose poem, El Reino del Abuelo/Grandfather’s Kingdom, is a gentle and melancholic look back at Christmas time in a house full of inquisitive children, and adults immersed in the literary and musical worlds of Cuba in the 1950s, just before the Revolution.I’ve … Continue reading A Child’s Christmas in Cuba: Grandfather’s Kingdom
I’ve decided to focus on 2 poems today, They are short and remind me in some ways of the poems of Langston Hughes. Their author is woman who I had the pleasure of hearing once, a member of UNEAC(National Union of Artists and Writers, Cuba), and an inspiration herself, to a younger generation of Afro-Cuban women poets. Below, Wikipedia gives a succinct account of her … Continue reading Water Finds its Own Level
Key Words, Nicolas Guillen, Cuba (Translated Kaushalya Bannerji, 2020) Make of your lifea bell that resonatesor a furrow— in which flowersthe luminous tree of the idea.Raise your voice over the voice without nameof all others, and make visiblethe man, along with the poet. Fill your spirit with flame,see the peaking of the summit,and if the knotty support of your walking stickdiscovers some obstacle to your … Continue reading Poetry for the Peeps!
This is a seven part poem I have been working on since my work, studies, and travels have taken me to South America and Cuba. I have long been fascinated and moved by the strength of peoples who manage to hold on to their cosmologies in the face of terrible odds such as kidnapping, enslavement, auction blocks, trade-sanctioned rape, forced labour, soul-searing racism, and unimaginable … Continue reading Pachacutec
(The poet is you who reads) Song for a City/Fieldwork I walk Sun at my back. Sun in my face. The pavement licks my flip-flops. There are surreal and abstract buildings Where you can see dream and sky through the windows that do not exist. There are plants and flowers that salute the cocktail of the evening with the perfume of their grace. And everywhere … Continue reading Song for a City