de La caída del equilibrista

Czar Gutiérrez

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L U N A R (Q U E O N D U L A)







               T E N U E L B R I L L O D E L A S A G U A S

               Sobre aquel ojo de agua hace gotear su belleza
               Entona con dulzura bajo la sombra lunar que ondula,
               plateando

               [Describe la trayectoria de una pluma que suavemente cae 
sobre un nido]

               ELLA: dos finísimos trazos y uno breve
               La piel brillante
               A veces, su delgada lengua sale y deja un beso: ese brillo intenso en ambos labios

               Le extendí una cerveza
               —Bebe— le dije
               Acerqué el cristal y me doblé para recibir sus labios

               Y en la delgada filigrana (que pulveriza)
yo me balanceo
               Navego en cada pliegue y me balanceo

               —Quiero ser boca fresca,
agua mansa
               A veces solo ritmo      

               (La brisa extrae el néctar del amanecer)

               —¿Ves? Por la boca del volcán asoma el rojísimo del sol

               [Sumerge sus ojos en la esplendente luminosidad del Universo]

               —Clavemos un punto fijo que sea el centro de rotación de los planetas



                Y —entre el cuarto claro y el secreto— huyen bajo la sombra lunar que ondula,
plateando.







               A L T O D E L A L U N A

               La luna avanza hacia el aro azul

               Sumergida en sus cabellos amarillos, enrojece
               Deshoja su piel y enrojece

               Recibe al astro que resbala

               Ella (dulce crisálida que en cada explosión florece)
toca el celeste anillo
y en la yema de sus dedos crece una luz
     
               Una luz como una espada que se abre y brilla y jugosa se derrama

               Libera su bellísima onda expansiva

               Y una delgada película de cera —la fiebre— recubre esa débil línea que separa el borde de su piel y el Universo

               Azul
               Espumante y molecular
               Ella era espacial: de nieve.







               [O R A C I Ó N]

               Hoy me he tendido bajo la luna y un grave ritmo me recorre

               Hoy he vuelto a sumergirme bajo su tersa luz, ambarina o delicada —superficie de claridades en cuyo centro un haz se aplasta, estalla o gime

               Hoy enorme como un animal que se abre el vientre y hace crecer el fuego. Pero ya envuelto en llamas miro su alta imagen poblada de estrellas. Siento el trozo de vidrio que bajo mi piel viaja —oh temible diáspora que explora— y una potencia como una arteria o un cable que en profunda tensión remueve y el sangriento ámbito despliega: escribo

               Te escribo hembra líquida, relámpago cautivo, flecha que guía mi mano izquierda y la diluye

               Y mira, cómo es la vida: yo que anduve suspendido describiendo la elipsis, el movimiento ondulante de nuestros cuerpos —un enorme fluido que cabalga sostenido y azulea—; yo que he elevado todo hacia un alto símbolo, lejos del hielo y la tormenta —en la estrella que de fuego se licúa— hoy arqueándome y ya cubierto de relámpago y locura percibo tu retorno: desde una nube de cristal —que se desgaja— un fragmento azul se precipita

               Amor mío: acaricio la luna que brilla entre mis dedos mientras despido la garra de oro que cruza tu corazón.



Read the English translation

The German philosopher Peter Sloterdijk writes, “To be modern is one who contests ever having been on the inside.” As an alternative to interiority, Sloterdijk proposes a relational mode of being in or being with the world, and, describing the nature of our relation, writes, “Individuals do not exist except as particles or as poles of spheres; all that exists are only couples and their extensions.” For Sloterdijk, ontology starts with the number two, so two is the beginning of being, and a relationship between two people is the first mode of existence.

The poems in Czar Gutiérrez’s La caída del equilbrista (Fall of the Tightrope Walker) can be read as the fall of man, as the breaking or implosion of the first sphere, which is the sphere of the Father. The book is an existential quest to reconnect with this Father figure (we could say this is the subject´s own psychic principle) as well as his female companion, and, on a cosmic level, it is a search for what Octavio Paz´s epigraph at the beginning of the book announces: a fraternity over the abyss. In Sloterdijk’s vocabulary, it is a sphereological search in a space of psychic resonance.

While translating Czar’s remarkable poems, we have immersed ourselves in Sloterdijk’s relation theories and discovered a strong resonance between his philosophy and the act of collective translation, which has taught us a great deal about the tuning of psyches in search of a word, a text, or even a poem that simultaneously resonates within two spheres. Fraternity and solidarity are, therefore, key words for a sphereological interpretation of collective translation.

We believe that analytical comprehension happens at all times, especially when one enters the realm of language, art, or poetry, when there is the common objective of privileging the original force which is the text, when the subject/object relationship is totally dissolved, and all that remains is an event, a text emerging through our tongues, which we consider not to be the infallible organs of speech, but those psychic principles that allow for wordless understanding. 

Our sphereology has been infused by what the poetic “I” in The Fall of the Tightrope Walker says at one point during his fall: “I want to be fresh mouth, / calm water, / At times, only rhythm.”

Czar Gutiérrez was born in 1968 in Arequipa. He is among the most important inventors of the last fifty years of Peruvian literature. Between 1983 and 1988 he studied philosophy at the Universidad Católica de Santa Maria (1983–1988) before becoming a rock journalist and underground DJ. La caída del equilibrista (Fall of the Tightrope Walker), Guiterrez’s first poetry collection, was published in 1997 and republished in 2012. Between 2003 and 2005, he camped out at Ground Zero in New York City in order to write 80M84RD3R0, an innovative novel structured in the form of a countdown. It was published in three volumes by Grupo Editorial Norma in Colombia. The novel received international acclaim and has been partially translated into English and French. Gutiérrez is also the author of the poetry collection Josefina (Hueso Húmero, 2012). Currently, he spends his time on a remote island in the South Pacific.

Marta del Pozo holds a Ph.D. in Spanish literature from the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and an M.F.A. in creative writing from NYU. She teaches Spanish literature at the University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth. As a poet, she received the accesit for her book of poems La memoria del pez (2008) and has won the Antonio Gala International Poetry Prize for her manuscript Hambre de Imágenes (2015). Her book Escuela de Geómetras is also forthcoming. With Nicholas Rattner, she has received an NEA award to translate into English Yvan Yauri's book of poems Viento de fuego (Fire Wind, Ugly Duckling Presse, 2011) and has also translated into Spanish the poetry of Richard Jackson, Robert Bringhurst, and Leonard Schwartz. She is the editorial director at Quantum Prose.

Nicholas Rattner holds a master's in English literature from the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. He is a former basketball journalist and editor for Ugly Duckling Presse. Currently, he teaches English at Holyoke Community College.