"If" by Rudyard Kipling

"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
and treat those two impostors both the same...





“She”

"Sea Inside"



Sofía Mercado

The sea kisses her.
Foam seesaws graze her body laying on the seashore;
her body as numb and helpless before the splendor of a burning sky.
She doesn’t move, stretches just an arm and with her hand grabs a handful of sand she lets run through, slowly, as she feels the water force pulling her inside. Lulled by the murmur of the waves that brake at the edge of her remembrances:
all those nights of love plunging into her memory and chest as bursts of light and vertigo.
Under the arch of her back beats the earth. She closes her eyes and in a sigh views him in the distance. Then she and him search each other´s folds, those of their most secret geographies. The two of them dance a slow dance, bared by the encompassed cadence of their bodies.
She stretches the other arm. Opens the palms of her hands, as someone asking heaven, at least a crumb of pity. She imagines him again rolled over her, deepening into her most profound abysses, clearing the path to delirium, tearing the skin of her desire, while up above their voices sob, as moans.
She lies face down. Crosses her arms and rests her chin on top. Closes her eyes again. His gaze nested in hers. And hers, her gaze, returning him the silent complicity of a mute dialogue. A silent language only eyes comprise.
She stands up. Slowly breathes in the warm and salty breeze. She then walks into the sea, into the moisture of other caresses, beyond flesh and skin, sea inside, sea inside.


Comment:
This is a most romantic description of physical connection afforded by the pen of a woman who understands desire, passion and love. Thank you for the beautiful words that dress the page with artistry.

Robert
Jan 2, 2010



“Mar Adentro”
Sofía Mercado

La besa el mar.
Vaivenes de espuma rozan su cuerpo tendido a orillas de la playa; su cuerpo como anestesiado e indefenso ante el esplendor de un cielo al rojo vivo.
No se mueve, sólo estira un brazo y con la mano aprieta un puño de arena que va dejando escapar despacio cuando siente la fuerza del agua jalando hacia adentro.
Se arrulla con el murmullo de las olas que rompen al filo de sus recuerdos:
todas esas noches de amor que como ráfagas de luz y vértigo se le precipitan en la memoria y en el pecho.
Bajo el arco de su espalda pulsa la tierra. Cierra los ojos y en un soplo lo ve a él en la distancia. Ella y él, los dos recorriéndose los pliegues de sus más secretas geografías. Los dos, bailando una lenta danza marcada por el ritmo acompasado de sus cuerpos.
Estira el otro brazo. Abre las palmas de las manos hacia arriba como quien extiende las manos para pedirle al cielo aunque sea una migaja de compasión.
Vuelve a imaginarlo: él volcado sobre ella; ahondando en el más profundo de sus abismos; él abriéndole paso al delirio; rasgándole la piel de sus ansias, mientras allá, más arriba, sus voces como gemidos, sollozaban.
Se acuesta bocabajo. Cruza los brazos donde descansa la barbilla. Vuelve a cerrar los ojos. La mirada de él anidada en la suya. Y la de ella, su mirada, regresándole a él, la complicidad de un diálogo silente. Un lenguaje mudo que sólo los ojos comprenden.
Se levanta. Respira despacio la brisa tibia y salada.
Luego se mete al mar, a la humedad de otras caricias; más allá de la carne y de la piel; mar adentro, mar adentro.

Paul Auster´s

Latest Novel: “Invisible”

"I can never say ‘why’ about anything I do.
I suppose I can say ‘how’ and ‘when’ and ‘what.’
But ‘why’ is impenetrable to me.
Stories surge up out of nowhere, and if they feel compelling, you follow them.
You let them unfold inside you and see where they are going to lead.
This one fascinated me. I think I was interested in exploring youth again.
The previous three books had all been about older people.
I thought maybe I had explored that enough for a while.
There were anniversaries coming up too—many 40th anniversaries looming as I finished the book in ‘08."

Complete Interview:
Paul Auster on his new novel
Invisible:






Forever...




"Looking For Paradise"





"Échame a mi la Culpa"





David Gray: "This Year´s Love"

by Victor Hugo:

“On Vit, on Parle”

« La vie arrive avec ses passions troublées…




On vit, on parle, on a le ciel et les nuages
Sur la tête ; on se plaît aux livres des vieux sages ;
On lit Virgile et Dante ; on va joyeusement
En voiture publique à quelque endroit charmant,
En riant aux éclats de l'auberge et du gîte ;
Le regard d'une femme en passant vous agite ;
On aime, on est aimé, bonheur qui manque aux rois !
On écoute le chant des oiseaux dans les bois
Le matin, on s'éveille, et toute une famille
Vous embrasse, une mère, une sœur, une fille !
On déjeune en lisant son journal. Tout le jour
On mêle à sa pensée espoir, travail, amour ;
La vie arrive avec ses passions troublées ;
On jette sa parole aux sombres assemblées ;
Devant le but qu'on veut et le sort qui vous prend,
On se sent faible et fort, on est petit et grand ;
On est flot dans la foule, âme dans la tempête ;
Tout vient et passe ; on est en deuil, on est en fête ;
On arrive, on recule, on lutte avec effort... --
Puis, le vaste et profond silence de la mort!








"Certain thoughts are prayers;
there are times where no matter the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees."


— Victor Hugo (Les Misérables)









"Amar en Tiempos Revueltos" TV España




"Man Deserves the Truth" Old Gringo/Gringo Viejo
(Carlos Fuentes´s Novel)
Fragment: