Poetry, sexy? Hell yeah

I guess Wednesday will become poetry day, as the poetry committee meeting are on that day. It was, once again, friendly, with a nice atmosphere, and inspiring. So many poets from so many nationalities, so many subjects and styles... But tonight, what got to me most was Pablo Neruda. Oh, I knew his name, had heard some of his poems. But Steef brought with him tonight "Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair" and well, I fell in love. Just for clarity's sake, with Pablo, not with Steef. Maybe it's because I was in a romantic mood because of Lanchka's wonderful problems. Anyhow, I didn't want to deprive you of this little nugget, the first paragraph to Love Poem #XIII entitled "He Ido Marcando" or "I have gone marking". First the original, then the translation.

He Ido Marcando con cruces de fuego
el atlas blanco de tu cuerpo.
Mi boca era una araña que cruzaba escondiéndose.
En ti, detrás de ti, temerosa, sedienta.
I have gone marking the atlas of your body
with crosses of fire.
My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide.
In you, behind you, timid, driven by thirst.

So, yeah, hot much? Oh well, true, the guy himself isn't thát appealing, but still, a cute guy whispers these kinds of words in my ear and I'm a goner. As long as he doesn't call me honey sweet, that is.

Next week in the poetry entry, I'll treat you to some Leonard Cohen. Sexy too, but a little darker, kinkier, in a way. It all goes to show that poetry isn't as stuffy as people think it is. I mean, some of my attempts at poetry also were quite suggestive as well.


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