poetryrepairs #240 v17.08:085

JOSE LUIS PALAZON : THE VOICE OF BOMARZO
JOSE LUIS PALAZON : THE ONLY ONE

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JOSE LUIS PALAZON
THE VOICE OF BOMARZO

Selber ein Fels sein. -- Günter Kunert
Günter Kunert Be a rock yourself. In the Park of Monsters. In the thickness of ivy. In the cloaks of lichen, in the claws of the sun. And there lost to dream about the shadow of names. To know that in the humus our history is hidden, our deformation is a profound oblivion, our strange memory is a root of the thirst. To see that there is another voice that sustains life, grounded in silence, braided in fear, that passes and illuminates the veins of the earth, the beats of the mount, the abysses of the sea. We are chimeras of our fire, a grey night that wakes up in the dawn of time. We are the lichen of time, the breath of moss, the weight of blade, the face of space. We heard our own sadness and one and only truth breathes within us. Others call it light, some call it death. Of our solitude we only know that it invades our being like water or like breeze. We are also the strength of a name. For example: Bomarzo.

poetryrepairs #240 v17.08:085





JOSE LUIS PALAZON
THE ONLY ONE

Like the rooster at dawn which breaks the loneliness of the day for the morning - the only star that overcame the night - makes the heart of time shudder. Its song, a light of oblivion, is the faithful nonsense of the ravenous sadness of memory. Its compassion, a violent space that cracks with a cry made of life crystals that sprout out of the moment. Its clear feeling, the only truth that scatters and unties the secret adventure of silence. Great is the loneliness that justifies man. Free is only the day devoted to its weeping, the grey ember of dream, the dawn that in its veins finds red-hot the conscious tenderness of its fire. Beyond this stretches no reason. There is only charm that softens us and blinds the limits of the body. In its skin of joy the flash bursts, in the place of coexistence, in the mauve of hours, in the lit tower, in the breath of the rosebush, on the blue patio, in the lemon-tree… in the water or in the truth that drowns us. The only faith. The radiant reason of the senses. Look at the silent rooster. The night has already suffered the throbbing of time.

poetryrepairs #240 v17.08:085







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THE VOICE OF BOMARZO

THE ONLY ONE

From the book Cuerpo Inseguro ( Spanish and English ) by JOSE LUIS PALAZON. The book is translated and published in French, Italian, Rumanian, German and Macedonian.


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