Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]

English Version

1) Grendel's Divorce

You must know that I do not hate

And that I hate you,
Because everything dead has two

Sides;
A sound is one arm of the quiet,
Ice has its warm half.

I hate you in order to start hating you
To begin life again
And never to stop hating you:
That is why I do not hate you yet.

I hate you, and I do not hate you,

As if I carried
Locks in my pocket: to a past of
A feeble, crumbling joy-

My hate has two lives, in order to

Hate you,
That is why I hate you, when I do

Do not hate you,
And also why I hate you when

I do?!.

#700 6/1/05

2) Grendel's Waiting

Do not go far off, for more than a

Moment; because-because-
It's difficult to say this: a moment is not,
Not long, and Grendel will be waiting
For you, as in an empty cave,
Nothing is safe.

Don't be alone, even for an hour,
Because-because-Grendel's

Friends, full of anguish will run,
Run after you, choking the life
Out of your heart?

?oh, hide your silhouette, yes
Never dissolve it, just hide it,

Hide it, eyelids and all into an
Empty space; fine my
Friend,

Because-because-in that moment
You wander off, you will have gone

So far, you will not come back; and
And love will remain here dying?

#701 6/2005

3) Counting Days
[Prose poetry]

Each day I wake-up I
Thank God for another-; for
today is only today. It has its
own history you might say,
which consumes all of the past for me.

When I look back, it seems
the days, no longer days (rather
history now) come and gone,
had wings on.

I do not want to swallow-up
tomorrow, it will come and pass,
and be consumed like a burning
patch of autumn leaves.

#703 6/2005

4) Papa Augusto's Hip?dromo
[At the Racetrack in Lima, Peru-5/2005]

While I sit here, in the open,
drifting in myself,
I must have stared a long time
down the racetrack, beyond the
horses,
someone yells
"Trifecta!" everyone's in my space
I won!!

#707 6/1/05

Spanish Version

1) El Divorcio de Grendel

Usted debe saberlo que yo no odio

Y lo que yo odio,
porque todo lo muerto tiene dos

Lados;
Un sonido es un brazo de la calma,
El hielo tiene su mitad caliente.

Lo odio con el fin de comenzar a odiarle
para Comenzar la vida otra vez
Y nunca parar odi?ndolo:
Es por eso que no le odio a?n.

Le odio, y no le odio,

Como si yo llev?
Cerraduras en mi bolsillo: a un pasado de
Una d?bil, desmenuzada alegr?a-

Mi odio tiene dos vidas, con el fin
de odiarlo

Es por eso que le odio, cuando lo hago

No lo odio,
Y tambi?n por qu? lo odio cuando

?Hago ?!.

*700 6/1/05

2) La Espera de Grendel

No vaya muy lejos, por m?s que un

Momento; " porque porque "
Es dif?cil de decir esto: .: un momento no es,
tan largo, y Grendel estar? esperando
Para usted, como en una cueva vac?a,
Nada es seguro.

No est? solo, a?n por una hora,
por que, por que, los amigos

de Grendel, llenos de angustia correr?n,
corriendo despu?s que tu, ahogando la vida
fuera de tu coraz?n ?

?oh, oculte su silueta, s?
Nunca disu?lvalo, solamente oc?ltelo,

Oculte ello, p?rpados y todo en un
Espacio vac?o; bien mi
Amigo,

" Porque porque en " ese momento
Usted vaga , usted se habr? ido

tan lejos, usted no volver?; y
?Y el amor permanecer? aqui muriendo?

*701 6/2005

3) Conteo de D?as
[ Poes?a de prosa]

Cada d?a desp?rtando yo
Agradeciendo a Dios por otro-; por
hoy es s?lo hoy. Esto tiene su
propia historia usted podr?a decir,
que consume todo el pasado
para m?.

Cuando miro hacia atr?s, parece
los d?as,dias largos (m?s bien
la historia ahora) vienen y van,
ten?an alas sobre.

No quiero tragarlo
ma?ana, esto vendr? y pasar?,
y ser consumido como una combusti?n
pedazo de hojas de oto?o.
*703 6/2005

4) El hip?dromo de Pap? Augusto
[ En el Hip?dromo en Lima, Per?-5/2005]

Mientras me siento aqu?, en el abierto,
llegando a la deriva yo mismo,
Debo haber mirado fijamente mucho tiempo
abajo el hip?dromo, m?s all? de los
caballos,
alguien grita
?" Trifecta! " todo el mundo en mi espacio
??Gan?!!

In these poems we see not only human nature at work [in Grendel], but the nature of the invisible world perhaps, trying to get into Mr. Siluk's poems. A joyful win at the racetracks, and counting days, can be a bore. All made to order for a nice afternoon in reading. Rosa Penaloza

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