POESÍAPOETRY
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Through Hispanic Eyes: Poetry and Photography
HISPANIC HERITAGE MONTH 2023
Books and Photographs Exhibition
August 2023, until January 2024.
Gladys Marcus Library/Fashion Institute of Technology/SUNY
Department of Modern Languages & Cultures
Created and curated by Madeline Millan, in collaboration with Professor Pilar Banco-Ruiz, Department of Modern Languages & Cultures. This event is possible thanks to the support of the School of Liberal Arts
Celeste Alba Iris Rodríguez (Mexico)
La tumba encarnada que habito
I
Comencé a desenredar mi cabello frente al espejo. Después del baño tengo este ritual.
Esta vez lo interrumpo para buscar mi mirada entre los cabellos húmedos que siguen al frente.
Ahí estoy. Esa soy yo.
Mis edades, mi delineado permanente, el orificio izquierdo de la nariz más pequeño que el derecho.
Busco mi cámara.
La sostengo.
Un solo tiro de gracia.
The encarnate grave I inhabit
I
I started untangling my hair in front of the mirror. After the bath I have this ritual.
This time I interrupt him to look for my gaze among the wet hair that is still in front.
There i am That's me.
My ages, my permanent eyeliner, the left nostril smaller than the right.
I'm looking for my camera.
I hold her.
A single shot of grace.
La casa de mi ausencia
Ando como equilibrista
en las baldosas
Busco el camino
la salida
de este calendario laberinto
Tengo la casa de mi ausencia
los días en pausa
un guardadito de horas disueltas
antes/luego de cerrar/abrir la puerta
My absence house
I walk as a tightrope walker
on the tiles
I look for the way
the exit
of this maze calendar
I have my absence house
the days on pause
a little bit of dissolved hours
before/after closing/opening the door
Del Yo es otra
Yo es otra
Je suis autre
Arthur Rimbaud
No recuerdo la primera vez que me vi en otras lunas
fuera de los ojos de mi madre
Tengo en la memoria a un gato esponjándose
con temor ante su propio reflejo
No soy el gato
ni aquella imagen al otro lado de la mirada de mamá
Yo es otra
I is another
Je suis autre
Arthur Rimbaud
I don't remember the first time I saw myself on other moons
out of my mother's eyes
I have in memory a cat fluffing up
afraid of his own reflection
I'm not the cat
nor that image on the other side of mom's gaze
I is another