316 article(s) translated from Spanish

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…...

Harpooned Woman

 Two lonelinesses that sometimes came together to feed the ego of destruction. –Marilin Roque   Upon a bed of frustrations, bed of lost hopes, a ghost ship bed, suddenly too wide, too deep,…...

Mangled Flesh

  HIS FATHER says, Son, if you see me crying when we go inside don’t be afraid, you keep moving forward, they’re my own things and they have nothing to do with you, coming here breaks…...

from “Rhapsody”

XV The time has come to say good-bye; with farewells comes wind to the vineyard like dark Valpolicella wine in the hand of dark winter dyes: parks, far stations pass by winter platforms, by hills that…...

The Baghdad Clock

I never feared them nor did they ever do anything to frighten me. They were there, next to the stove, mixed up with the crackling of firewood, the taste of freshly baked bollos, the to-and-fro of the old…...

from “Rage”

From violent dampnesses, from places where the residues of torments and whimpers mesh, comes this arterial grief, this shredded memory.          They go insane, even the mothers…...

The Last Day on Earth

There seemed to be no one left in the barrio now and the windows were bare and the wind stirred through gates and the rats crossed noiseless rooms and the smell of the honeysuckle was fading. At night…...

Crossing Bridges

I crossed the Vltava by way of the Charles Bridge. I crossed the Neva by way of the Trinity Bridge. I crossed the Danube by way of the Lion Bridge. I crossed the Moskva by way of the Novoarbatski Bridge.…...