Arisaema ringens & Acer japonicum 10 November 2019

Nuestro mundo global del momento parece ser más chico pero aún existe ese Ecuador. Mis navidades de niño eran durante el intenso calor del verano porteño. Como mi papá era inglés y mi mamá filipina educada en los Estados Unidos ellos celebraban esa navidad con el arbolito y Santa Claus me dejaba regalitos debajo de un pinito rociado con nieve artificial Noma.

Our present global world seems to be smaller but we still have that defining equator. As a boy my Buenos Aires Christmases happened during the intense summer heat. Because my father was English and my Filipina mother had been educated in the United States we celebrated Christmas with the tree sprayed with Noma artificial snow. My gifts appeared under that tree.

Al estar leyendo las poesías de Emily Dickinson he notado que ha escrito por lo menos dos en donde menciona el mes de noviembre. Y muy interesante es esta carta que encontré que ella escribió a su hermana Elizabeth.

When I was reading the poems of Emily Dickinson (at least once or twice a week) I have found that she mentions November at least twice. I found an interesting letter to her sister Elizabeth in which that month is mentioned:

To Mrs. J.G. Holland

From ED

early November 1865

Dear Sister,

Father called to say that our steelyard was fraudulent, exceeding by an ounce the rates of honest men. He had been selling oats. I cannot stop smiling, though it is hours since,that even our steelyard will not tell the truth.

Besides wiping the dishes for Margaret, I wash them now, while she becomes Mrs. Lawler, vicarious papa to four previous babes. Must she not be an adequate bride?

I winced at her loss, because I was in the habit of her, and even a new rolling-pin has an embarrassing element, but to all except anguish, the mind soon adjusts.

It is also November. The noons are more laconic and the sundowns sterner, and Gibraltar lights make the village foreign. November always seemed to be the Norway of the year. [Susan] is still with the sister who put her child in an ice nest last Monday forenoon. The redoubtable God! I notice where Death has been introduced, he frequently calls, making it desirable to forestall hid advances.

It is hard to be told by the papers that a friend is failing, not even know where the water lies. Incidentally, only, that he comes to land. Is there no voice for these? Where is Love today?

Tell the dear Doctor we mention him with a foreign accent, party already to transactions spacious and untold. Nor have we omitted to breathe shorter for our little sister. Sharper than dying is the death for the dying's sake.

News of these would comfort, when convenient or possible.

          Emily.

Sufrí un leve shock al buscar y encontrar poesías relacionadas con ese mes en mi libro de Alfonsina Storni. Su noviembre es diferente. Es sobre un verano que se viene.

El ensueño:

I

Acababa noviembre cuando te encontré. El cielo estaba azul y los árboles muy verdes. Yo había dormitado largamente, cansada de esperarte, creyendo que no llegarías jamás. Decía a todos: mirad mi pecho, ¿veis?, mi corazón está lívido, muerto, rígido. Y hoy, digo: mirad mi pecho: mi corazón está rojo, jugoso, maravillado.

INovember was finishing when I found you. The sky was blue and the trees were very green. I had been slumbering for long, tired of waiting for you, thinking you would never return. I told everybody: Look at my breast, do you see?, my heart is livid, dead, rigid. And today I say. look at my breast: my heart is red, juicy and marveled. (my translation)

More- Más - Alfonsina Storni


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