la poetisa cuenta hasta cien y se retira
La poetisa cuenta hasta cien y se retira
La poetisa recoge hierba de entretiempo,
pan viejo, ceniza especial de cuchillo;
hierbas para el suceso y las iniciaciones.
Le gusta acaso la herencia que asumen los fuertes,
Quién, él o ella, juramentados, destinados al futuro:
Hijos de perra clamando tan dulcemente por el verbo,
implorando cómo llegar a la santa a su lenguaje de neblina.
Anoche hubo piedras en la espalda de una nación,
carbón mucho frotado en mejillas de aldea lejana.
Pero después dieron las gracias, juntaron, desmintieron,
retiraron junio y julio para el hambre. Que hubiese hambre.
La niña buena cuenta hasta cien y se retira.
La niña mala cuenta hasta cien y se retira.
La poetisa cuenta hasta cien y se retira.
Ana Enriqueta Terán
Libro de los Oficios (1967)
Antología Poética
Monte Ávila Editores, Caracas (2005)
The poetess counts to a hundred and leaves
The poetess picks up halftime grass,
stale bread, special ash from a knife;
herbs for the event and the initiations.
Perhaps she likes the legacy the strong ones assume,
Who, he or she, sworn in, destined for the future:
Bastards crying out so sweetly through the verb,
imploring how to reach the saint to her misty language.
Last night there were stones on the back of a nation,
a lot of coal rubbed on the cheeks of a remote village.
But later they thanked, joined, denied,
left June and July to the hungry. There would be hunger.
The good girl counts to a hundred and leaves.
The bad girl counts to a hundred and leaves.
The poetess counts to a hundred and leaves.
Ana Enriqueta Terán
Book of Crafts (1967)
Anthology of poetry
Monte Avila Editores, Caracas (2005)
The poetess picks up halftime grass,
stale bread, special ash from a knife;
herbs for the event and the initiations.
Perhaps she likes the legacy the strong ones assume,
Who, he or she, sworn in, destined for the future:
Bastards crying out so sweetly through the verb,
imploring how to reach the saint to her misty language.
Last night there were stones on the back of a nation,
a lot of coal rubbed on the cheeks of a remote village.
But later they thanked, joined, denied,
left June and July to the hungry. There would be hunger.
The good girl counts to a hundred and leaves.
The bad girl counts to a hundred and leaves.
The poetess counts to a hundred and leaves.
Ana Enriqueta Terán
Book of Crafts (1967)
Anthology of poetry
Monte Avila Editores, Caracas (2005)





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Saludos.-