La vida

es una burla continua

a nuestra ingenuidad.

B.I.


POEMS IN ENGLISH by Beatriz Iriart



REAP FRUIT



I give to you
My true sunflowers
You give me
A song
With your killing hands
Both of us create
The cruel and devastating melody
Of a premature exile.



© Beatriz Iriart




THE ORCHARD

To Raul Zeleniuk's memory

At the orchard
Have bloomed seven
Of your "incipient ladies of the night"
Seven were their screams
Seven are the memories
Seven your deaths
And your "incipient ladies of the night"
Bring seven lives
When the sun goes down,
And I
Await.



© Beatriz Iriart





INSOMNIA

I am a wandering nightmare
An aborted dream
A day break blues
A foreseen mourning
On the frozen nights of
The incoming Autumn

© Beatriz Iriart




I WAS IN AUSCHWITZ

To the memory of Primo Levi
(1919-1987)
January 27th, 2006


I was in Auschwitz.
From bitterness
Pain and terror
I bore children
Barefoot I walked through mud
And harvested flowers fields
Just like the fresh seeds
Of our flocks.
Today 61 years after
The camp liberation:
I am a shadow
A faceless woman
Desolation and hunger.
I...
Was in Auschwitz




© Beatriz Iriart
Translation from Spanish by 
Olga Y. Mancinelli







Obra: Luisa Richter