You drift in a baffled sea. Your eyes cast aside ancient clarities, from when a tree was a tree, and the red-hot salt, a reason to move through the world.
You let the swell cradle you, like remnants of a boat. You feel sorry for yourself, for what you left on the shore.
Jellyfish, wide-open, circle you. Actually everything dangles its nets in your direction now. You want to go back because you’re frightened, but it’s impossible. The secret should be swallowed whole. You go back, in any case, inside yourself, aware of the reality of the red surge that threw you to the sea.
You are breathing beyond you, beyond us. You drag out our path. I’m right behind you but I don’t know it, I sense how the days come apart, how mistakes pick up altitude then plunge, detached, into nothingness.
The stone that shouldered your feet for a moment turned to dust before you had a second to lament. By then everything was just right; the light, night’s clear-cut edge.
More and more helpless in the whirlpool, owning more and more the freedom of flying astray. How will you call to yourself amid the uproar if words, too, get lost in the blue horizon?
Let the current water down this shoreless time between us.
Medusas
Te mueves en un mar perplejo. Tus ojos desechan antiguas claridades en las que un árbol era un árbol, y la ardiente sal, un motivo para ir por el mundo.
Como los restos de un barco, te dejas abrazar por el oleaje. Tienes piedad de ti, y de aquello que dejaste en la orilla.
Abiertas medusas te rodean. Es verdad que todo tiende sus redes hacia ti en este instante. Quieres volver porque tienes miedo, pero ya es imposible. El secreto debe ser devorado completamente. Vuelves, sin embargo, dentro de ti, reconoces como cierto el rojo impulso que te lanzó al mar.
Respiras más allá de ti, más allá de nosotros. Haces que la carrera sea más larga. Te sigo de cerca sin saber, sintiendo cómo los días se desintegran, cómo el error va ganando altura y se arroja indiferente al vacío.
La piedra que sostuvo tus pies por un momento se hizo polvo antes de que pudieras arrepentirte. Para entonces todo estuvo de acuerdo; la luz, la línea exacta de la noche.
Cada vez más dócil al remolino, cada vez más dueña de la libertad de perderte ¿Qué harás para llamarte en medio del fragor si en el horizonte azul se pierden también las palabras?
Deja que la corriente diluya entre nosotros este tiempo sin orillas.
The “baffled sea” of Lucía Estrada’s “Medusas” calls out to “the sea’s incoherencies” of Sylvia Plath’s “Medusa.” The poem initiates a correspondence with the U.S. poet that guides the three-part descent of "Katabasis." I have translated this poem with attention to this intertextual dialogue, beginning with the title. While “medusas” means “jellyfish” in Spanish, my choice to maintain the Spanish-language title points to the other “Medusa” beneath the surface.
"Angel-headed hipsters rejoice: a new carbon typescript of Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl” has been discovered by rare books dealer and Beats specialist Brian Cassidy among the papers of Annie Ruff....this draft has an uncorrected version page seven as it was originally typed, before Ginsberg retyped the entire page, changing it significantly."
Poetry Daily stands with the Black community. We oppose racism, oppression, and police brutality. We will continue to amplify diverse voices in the poetry world. Black Lives Matter.
"Here are two things I have a difficult time writing about: myself and the sacredness of a great poem. Maybe a great poem can give us shape when our own—that is, whatever holds us together—has slipped away."
