323 article(s) translated from Spanish

The Witness

He rested in wildflower-whelmed cemeteries in the yards of wooden churches. —José Antonio Ramos Sucre, “El peregrino de la fe” When I chanced upon a weblog, whose text was also…...

Exilium Ergo Sum

In Cuba, I was an exiled writer. First, because I wanted to isolate myself from that pair of collective hypnoses called the literary field and the national tradition. In Cuba, I didn't need to sail…...

Poem to the One in Far-Off Lands

The one banished by poverty lives heartless in far-off lands and cares for nothing as if it were his and is sullen and tired under the heavens. The one who leaves his house defeated and is dragged along…...

Queens Football

Mauricio Álvarez, better known as La Madison, takes a small mirror from his bag. As he combs his wispy bleached blonde hair, he says he realized he was gay at the age of seven, while reading a Superman…...

Government Property

“A bitch like that would make any man proud. Look at those tits, bursting forth in need of a man’s touch. They’re calling to me, baby.” It was nine o’clock in the morning,…...

By Night the Mountain Burns

Like all the inhabitants on our Atlantic island, we lived in the big village during the rainy season and went to the settlements in the dry season, to eat whatever we could find there. The house in the…...

For Nina

August 18, 1995 Dear Nina: Today I went to buy this notebook with money I borrowed from Frida . . . your daughter. I also bought myself a large ice cream, vanilla-flavored. It wasn't very good. I came…...

A Mexican Story

My friend Lencho Mejía has been murdered thirty-seven times in Los Angeles, five in Tijuana, and once in a Romanian-Argentinian co-production filmed in Honduras, which came very close to being nominated…...

Ancient Plumbing

On the islands of the Caribbean, the afternoons are long and silent. The little islands, where no one speaks Spanish and which don’t look like countries, either. Just islands. Patches of earth wreathed…...

Standing Stones

everything I want to tell you son Is that you should go through suffering           If you come to its shore if its shore comes to you Enter its night    …...

Regeneration

It was a beautiful summer night, few stars in the sky, but a big, bright moon. Juan was on his way home after a tiring day’s work. Home meant apartment C, second floor, in a building that was still…...

Axel, Itinerant Dog

For Milagros Mata Gil The woman next door was pulling up weeds and planting roses that would flower when summer came. She was an old lady with careful hands and extraordinarily strong legs. She was breaking…...

Darkness

Every man would have as Rilke wished a personal death:             so well deserved, like love, private, inner, contained, a seed, the same as childhood’s…...

A Pornomilitary Romanza

I I’m Eleazar, and when I suffer through nights with asthma and a runny nose, all I think about is Vitico’s sister, Silvana. My heart stops when I remember her, my lungs stop, my dreams stop,…...

A Separation

After a tumultuous delay (domestic battles, locum solicitors, heartless agents, judicial strikes, and sudden deferrals), Arturo was given confirmation of the appointment. When he received the news he remembered,…...

Blue Pansies

"Muriel!" Honestly, I've been thinking about her for the last three days with a touch of nostalgia. I must have been in love, after all. Just my luck, I've just discovered that everyone's tongue…...

Making Peace

Let’s come to an agreement, poem. I’ll stop forcing you to say what you don’t mean and you won’t resist my desires. We’ve wrestled a lot, you and I. Why insist on creating…...

Viva Translation!

In 2010 the acclaimed American writer Lydia Davis published a new English translation of Gustave Flaubert’s acclaimed novel Madame Bovary. The convergence of so much acclaim did not, of course, go…...

White Sand, Black Stone

The young officer was reading the pages of my passport diligently, scrupulously, as though they were the pages of a gossip magazine or a cheap novel. He held them up. He looked at them against the light.…...

Texas: The First Ten Years of Bruneville

Eleven years have passed since the town of Bruneville was founded on the banks of the Rio Bravo, just a few miles up-river from the Gulf. It was named after Ciudad Castaño, the legendary shining…...

Ode to Ángel Cruchaga

Ángel, I remember in my childhood, southern and shaken by rain and wind, suddenly your wings, the flight of your sparkling poetry, the starry tunic filling the night, the roads, with phosphoric…...

Ode to the Andean Cordillera

Once again, from up high, flying over  the sky, you appeared, white and obscure  cordillera of my homeland. Before then, the great airplane  crossed great seas, jungles, deserts. Everything…...

Ode to the Flowers of Datitla

Under the pines, the earth concocts small unsullied things: slim grasses from whose threads minuscule lanterns hang, mysterious capsules plump with lost air, and shadows are different there, filtered …...

Ode to Juan Tarrea

Yes, you know America, Tarrea. You know it. In the helpless Peru, you looted the tombs. To the small villager, to the Andean Indian, Tarrea, protector,  gave his hand, but retreated it with its rings.…...

Ode to Jean Arthur Rimbaud

Now, this October you will turn a hundred, harrowing friend. May I speak to you? I’m alone, through my window the Pacific breaks its eternal threatening thunder. It is night. The burning firewood…...