Homero Aridjis - Autorretrato a los 80 Años
Monday, April 06, 2020
 |
| México DF 1997 |
AUTORRETRATO A LOS OCHENTA AÑOS
Nunca pensé
pasar mis ochenta años
en el año de
la plaga y de la plebe gobernante.
Pero aquí
estoy recluido en mi casa
de la ciudad
de México, acompañado por Betty,
mi esposa de
toda la vida,
y por tres
gatos ferales que llegaron de la calle;
ah, y por una
imagen de la Virgen del Apocalipsis
alumbrada día
y noche en la pared de la escalera.
Chloe y Eva,
mis hijas, gemelas astrales,
se han
convertido en madres espirituales,
y Josefina, mi
nieta única, se ha vuelto una abuela lúdica.
Están en
Londres y Brooklyn, separadas de nosotros,
detrás de
ventanas viendo y oyendo
pasar las
ambulancias de la muerte.
Hay paraísos
que no tienen país
y mis soles
son soles interiores,
y el amor, más
que el sueño
es una segunda
vida,
y lo viviré
hasta el último momento
en la
estupenda cotidianeidad del misterio.
Rodeado de luz
y de gorjeo de pájaros,
vivo en un
estado de poesía,
porque para
mí, ser y poetizar es lo mismo.
Por eso
quisiera, en estos días finales,
como Tiziano,
representar una vez más el cuerpo humano.
Polvo seré mas
polvo enamorado.
[HOMERO
ARIDJIS NACIÓ EL 6 DE ABRIL DE 1940 EN CONTEPEC, MICHOACÁN, MÉXICO]
SELF-PORTRAIT AT AGE EIGHTY
I never thought I’d spend my eightieth
in a year of plague and populists.
But here I am, confined to my house
in Mexico City, accompanied by Betty,
my wife — all life long,
and by three feral cats that came in off the street;
and oh, by the Virgin of the Apocalypse’s image
lit day and night on the stairway wall.
Astral twins, my daughters, Chloe and Eva
have turned into my spiritual mothers,
and Josephine, my only grandchild, into a playful
grandma.
They are in London and Brooklyn, separated from us,
behind windows, seeing and hearing
the ambulances of death pass by.
Paradises there are that have no country
and my suns are interior suns,
and love — more so than dream —
is a second life,
and I will live it to the last moment
in the tremendous everydayness of the mystery.
Surrounded by light and the warbling of birds,
I live in a state of poetry,
because being, for me, and making poetry are the same.
For that I would want, in these final days,
like Titian, to depict the human body one more time,
Dust I shall be, but dust in love.
(Translated by George McWhirter and Betty Ferber)
[HOMERO
ARIDJIS WAS BORN APRIL 6, 1940 IN CONTEPEC, MICHOACAN, MEXICO]
I did not know then that my connection and friendship with Aridjis would be further linked to another poet and a new friendship. This is Irish-born George McWhirter, Vancouver’s Poet Laureate in 2007 and 2008 who translates most of Aridjis’s poetry. McWhirter a former professor at the University of British Columbia inspired many of his students to follow his craft.
Another link that I share with the two poets is that they posed for portraits wearing my mother’s red Mexican rebozo.
Homero Aridjis
George McWhirter
Thanks to Aridjis I have learned to appreciate poetry through his work which gives me nostalgia for the many years I lived in Mexico. Reading Aridjis has led to Borges, Cortázar, Benedetti, Galeano, Dickinson an also Canada’s first Poet Laureate George Bowering who loves Mexico but probably has a different opinion than Aridjis on baseball.
My favorite Aridjis poem is this one:
Letter from Mexico
Cuando
conocí a Homero Aridjis en el Faculty Club de la Universidad de British
Columbia a fines del invierno de 1993 no tenía ninguna idea de lo que era un
poeta o una poesía. Al retratar a Aridjis, con esa sonrisa de él supe que
tendría que aprender.
Lo que no
sabía entonces es que mi conexión y amistad con el poeta perduraría hasta el
presente. Tampoco sabía que pronto habría un enlace y otra amistad con otro
poeta, un poeta irlandés llamado George McWhirter que fue el primer Poeta
Laureado de Vancouver en 2007 y 2008. McWhirter es el traductor de la mayoría
de las poesías de Aridjis. En nuestra ciudad McWhirter ha enseñado e inspirado
a muchos de sus alumnos de la Universidad de British Columbia a ser escritores.
Otro interesante
vínculo que me une a los dos poetas es que ellos han posado con el rebozo
colorado mexicano de mi mamá.
Homero Aridjis
George McWhirter
Homero Aridjis
George McWhirter
Desde 1993
he aprendido, gracias a Aridjis a apreciar la poesía empezando con la suya. De allí
leí y conocí a Borges, Cortázar,
Dickinson, Galeano, Benedetti y el primer Poeta
Laureado Canadiense, George
Bowering.
De todas
las poesías del nacido en Contepec hace 80 años hoy, mi favorito es este:
Carta de México
Por
estas callejuelas
ancestros
invisibles
caminan
con nosotros
ruidos
de coches
miradas
de niños
y
cuerpos de muchachas
los
traspasan
Impalpables
y vagos
frente a
puertas que ya no son
y
puentes que son vaciós
los
atravesamos
mientras
con el sol en la cara
nosotros
vamos también
hacia la
transparencia
 |
| Zócalo - 2012 |
When I first met Homero Aridjis in 1993 sometime in late winter
at the University Club of the University of British Columbia I had no knowledge
of poets or of poetry. Upon taking his portrait there was something of his
charming smile that indicated that my ignorance would soon be something of the past.
I did not know then that my connection and friendship with Aridjis would be further linked to another poet and a new friendship. This is Irish-born George McWhirter, Vancouver’s Poet Laureate in 2007 and 2008 who translates most of Aridjis’s poetry. McWhirter a former professor at the University of British Columbia inspired many of his students to follow his craft.
Another link that I share with the two poets is that they posed for portraits wearing my mother’s red Mexican rebozo.
Homero Aridjis
George McWhirter
Thanks to Aridjis I have learned to appreciate poetry through his work which gives me nostalgia for the many years I lived in Mexico. Reading Aridjis has led to Borges, Cortázar, Benedetti, Galeano, Dickinson an also Canada’s first Poet Laureate George Bowering who loves Mexico but probably has a different opinion than Aridjis on baseball.
My favorite Aridjis poem is this one:
Letter from Mexico
Invisible ancestors
walk with us
through these back streets
car-noises
the stares of children
young girls’ bodies
cross through them
Weightless
vague
we travel through them
at doorways that no longer are
on bridges that are empty
while with the sun on our faces
we too
move toward transparency
Homero Aridjis
Eyes to See Otherwise - Ojos de otro mirar
Selected Poems
Edited by Betty Farber and George McWhirter
