Eyes to See Otherwise is the first extensive selection of poems by leading Mexican poet Homero Aridjis to appear in English. The scope and quality of the translations, by some of America's finest poets, mark the centrality of his work on the map of modern poetry. Aridjis's sources range from Nahuatl chants and Huichol initiation songs to San Juan de la Cruz and the 16th-ceEyes to See Otherwise is the first extensive selection of poems by leading Mexican poet Homero Aridjis to appear in English. The scope and quality of the translations, by some of America's finest poets, mark the centrality of his work on the map of modern poetry. Aridjis's sources range from Nahuatl chants and Huichol initiation songs to San Juan de la Cruz and the 16th-century Spanish poet Luis de Gongora y Argote. He is, in the words of translator George McWhirter, "a troubadour of love for lost environments, a voice in the wilderness of Mexico City and Mexico." Included in this selection are poems by Aridjis evoking his own life, present and past, his memories always sticking close to his birthplace Contepec, where, on Altamirano Hill, the Monarch butterflies arrive each year. This long awaited Selected Poems enables the reader to witness, from his 1960 collection The Eyes ora Double Vision to new unpublished poems -- in a bilingual edition -- the poetic and personal evolution of this "visionary poet of lyrical bliss, crystalline concentrations and infinite spaces" (Kenneth Rexroth)....
|Title||:||Eyes to See Otherwise/Ojos De Otro Mira: Selected Poems|
|Number of Pages||:||312 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Eyes to See Otherwise/Ojos De Otro Mira: Selected Poems Reviews
taken from Insomnia Begins In The Cradle (El Insomnio Comienza En La Cuna)It is raining in my room,the water soaks the walls.The room has no ceiling;the sky swims in my chest.Its foliage gurgling with raina tree sprouts in my mind.All night long the poplars are chantingthe rain drums on my hands.All night through my bodyI feel the slippery body of the rain.All night I see the blank seedsteeming from my eyes.At dawn I rise. I touch the lightwith my liquid hands. I am rain.Llueve en mi cuarto, el agua moja las paredes.El cuarto no tiene tejado,el cielo nada en mi pecho.Un árbol crece en mi menteen su follaje gorjea la lluvia.Toda la noche cantan los álamosla lluvia suena en mi manos.Toda la noche siento en mi cuerpoel cuerpo resbaladizo de la lluvia.Toda la noche veo lloverlas semillas blancas de mis ojos.Al alba me levanto. Toco la luzcon manos liquidas. Yo soy la lluvia.
This man taught an entire seminar in English just for me. One of the funnest, if not most well prepared, guest lecturers ever, I asked him to sign my copy on our last day before I knew what a celebrated poet he is in Mexico.
One of my favorite Latin American poets, often underappreciated.
4 1/2 stars