Ode to: The Ice Maiden of Ampatos Summit [now in: English and Spanish]
Dedícate to Antonio Castillo. L. Of. Los Andes Universitario
The Ice Maiden Of Ampato's Summit
Part One The Climb
In the spring of my life, in my village
By the Andes, I awoke one morning
To find I was chosen for a journey
How shall I say: to the summit of Ampato!
Ampato, our sacred mountain
I climbed with our holy priests.
I found myself twenty-thousand feet high;
I would be the sacrificial offering
Ordained so, by our celestial chief priest.
Once on top, death could scarcely be
Any bitter than its wild arduous winds;
And the icy cold Andean ceremony?.
And there I sat, within the clouds, and rested
With figurines of silver and gold,
And beautiful textiles adorning me
All dressed, in fine indulgent funerary,
I was to be, the Inca Ice Maiden
Now ready for death and burial.
'I hoped the gods of Ampato,' so I prayed
'Are pleased today'; for my body,
Will be frozen soon, anyway.
Yet, I'm so very cold, and my hands clutch,
To my dress-tightly, against my side;
I cannot see anything vividly.
Thus, the holy moment has come for me
I died with every hope that was.
(Five-hundred years ago!...)
Part Two Beyond Death
I felt my soul, my spirit, fall, falling
In this thick discolored air,
After a very, very long silence;
No woman, though woman I once was,
Once was, and now my blood lumped
Lumped and frozen like ice knobs.
The soul maker, from whom gave me
My first breath at birth?
He is coming now, He's nearby
As I reply, He sees my soul cry-
My tears, frozen tears?melt
I will be, resurrected (He tells me)
He rules the earth, its mountains
All its waters and skies,
His holy Inca city, must be nearby?
'Lead me,' I sigh, a lowly sigh-
'Lead me to this Holy Inca City,
And leave my cold ill body behind.'
And He smiles, as he leads me
Leads me with untouchable hands,
Leads me to the Holy City!... #748 7/4/05
Translated by Nancy Peñaloza Edited by Rosa Peñaloza
La Doncella de Hielo De la Cumbre de Ampato
Versión en español
En la primavera de mi vida, en mi pueblo Por los Andes, desperté una mañana Para encontrar que fui escogida para un viaje.
Como voy a decir: ¡A la cumbre de Ampato! Ampato, nuestra montaña sagrada Subí con nuestros santos sacerdotes.
Me encontré a 20,000 pies de altura; Yo sería el sacrificio ofrecido Ordenado así, por nuestro celestial sacerdote principal
Una vez en la cima, la muerte apenas podría ser Nada más amarga, que sus arduos vientos salvajes; Y la ceremonia andina fría helada-.
Y allí me senté, entre las nubes, y descansé
Con las estatuillas de plata y oro,
Y el textil hermoso adornándome
Toda vestida, en el fino funerario indulgente, Yo debía ser, la Doncella Inca de Hielo
Ahora lista para la muerte y el entierro.
"Esperé que los dioses de Ampato", por eso recé "Estén contentos hoy día"; por que mi cuerpo, Será congelado pronto, de todos modos.
Todavía, tengo tanto frío, y mis manos enganchadas, A mi vestido- fuertemente, contra mi costado; No puedo ver nada vívidamente.
Así, el momento sagrado ha venido para mí Muero con cada esperanza que hubo. (¡Quinientos años atrás!....)
Más Allá de la Muerte
Sentí mi alma, mi espíritu, caer, cayendo En este aire espeso decolorado, Después de un, muy largo silencio
Ninguna mujer, aunque mujer fui una vez Una vez fui, y ahora mi sangre amontonada Amontonada y congelada como copos de hielo.
El Hacedor del alma, por quien mi primer aliento Me fue dado al nacer.... El está viniendo ahora, El está muy cerca.
Como respondo, El ve mi alma llorar- Mis lágrimas, lágrimas heladas...derretirse Yo seré, resucitada (me dice El)
El gobierna la tierra, sus montañas Todas sus aguas y cielos, Sus ciudades Incas santas deben esta cerca?
"Guíame" yo suspiro, un suspiro humilde "Guíame a esta ciudad santa Inca, Y deja mi helado cuerpo enfermo atrás".
Y El sonríe, mientras me guía ¡Guiándome con sus intocables manos, Guiándome a la ciudad santa! .....
#748 4 de Julio del 2005
Dennis Siluk Poet, see his new book "Spell of the Andes," at http://www.amazon.com
This RSS feed URL is deprecated, please update. New URLs can be found in the footers at https://news.google.com/news
The Merchant of Copan [In English and Spanish]
English VersionThe Merchant of Copan [480 AD]Advance: The ballgame at the Honduras courtyard in Copan, the year was 480 AD, Copan's 3rd ruler, Mat Head, whom succeeded Quetzal Macaw, whom was the founder of the city is now the new ruler. Mat Head, was a female, the spouse of Quetzal Macaw, and here is where the story begins.
Five Mixed Poems, with Notes [now is Spanish and English]
1.Night in Jamaica [Peruvianism: 1810]It was a rainy night they say When don Simon Bolivar Slept in the arms of beautiful -Luisa Crober (of Jamaica); thus an Assassin missed his mark When he stabbed Major Amestoy Sleeping in the dark In Bolivar's hammock!.
I AM SO GRATEFUL for simpler times. Stores were closed on Sundays, TV shows seemed to make more sense, Family members spent ample time with each other, And people were valued more than things.
THe Monster Mash, A Graveyard SMASH (short story I wrote when I was 11)
The Monster Mash The Graveyard SmashHave you heard of the Monster Mash? I suppose you know the story of how it came to be, right? Well, I'm here to tell the TRUE story to you.It sarted out late one night, when all monsters where out of human sight.
I Shall Wait...
I Shall Wait..
The King and Delka & Moiromma: the Cold Planet [Parts 25 and 26]
#25The King and Delka [Split Mawkishness-on Moiromma /Part V]Sickly SentimentalityI have sought out friends Only to find rawness Of their passion; And the uniformity Of their vision.Who out there can know My cerebral verve?(Only the long dead)By King Moir I[Of Moiromma]Ah! the aimless cosmos come back to his mind as he stands on his balcony looking up into he eerie dark.
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the talking drums your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your ageless minstrels have i not heard of your swinging hips! i have heard enough and have come to watch wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribes the timid tribes of your sweetened tongues the varied tongues of your virtuous menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the mother earth your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa your kings of the ancient dynasty the ancient dynasty of rusted spear and shield africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awake pelting on men as well, the gods gathering itself drop by drop.
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a silvery alien craft, And whilst he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an instant one off fine At a cash dispenser of his choice And they are checking all the time On his irises face and voice.And of course they find that he is not, They discover he just cannot be there, Although he seems as if he is visible, And has hands and toes and hair, If he is not on the Great Data Bank, He plainly and simply cannot be, He is not listed and he is not ranked He is surely not like you and me.
Man Unbowed [A poem]
Man UnbowedUnbowed by sin, the world of man, stands Upon his feet he gapes into the sky, The indifference of centuries within his eyes, And in his heart the curse of the old world. Who made him dead to love and God? A thing that breathes only for wants and needs, With a lack of emotion, a brother to the fox? Who tightened and pushed up his jagged brow? (To make him look so grand, so proud-so tall.
The Exit Poems [Iron and Fire & No Heroes]
The Exit Poems [And Socrates]Iron and FireIron can be soften by fire- grows hard in the cold; and all the gates therein are, as it was, closed again. So, often are those misled? by luxury and pride, who push humility aside-: thus, redemption their vanity and perfection their virtue? and in the end, they all collided.
The Spirits de Copan
Part oneI see them in the skies I hear them in their hells They whisper and they moanAnd never are alone- The Spirits and the Ghouls? The Spirits de Copan!They are shadows in my world Echoes in my dreams A mystery and a force To a cosmic happening! The Spirits and the Ghouls? The Spirits de Copan!..
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my head And found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him, I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem from him-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
The Man Who Could Not Say Sorry For His Sins
Sorry would be a start.Though you cant take back your mistakes, and you cant unravel time, you'd think there would be remorse, for such a self serving crime, to send others out to die, to pay the blood price you have decreed, when its purely posturing and posing, all about vanity and greed, to secure a perceived niche in history, glowing down the years, is the extent of your ambition, is the puny limit of your fears, when those you have sent to die, believing implicitly in you, leave relatives behind who see, that nothing you said was true, there is no thought now for those, whose number you dont count, they are yesterdays forgotten, though daily they still mount, no thought of resignation, no apology to those left behind, just onward with the ego, fast forward from those times, as if nothing ever happened, as if your lies are quite ok, as if now is what to focus on, and then was another day, lost back in the mists of time, obscured by clouds half seen, not an affront to the living, not impeachable and obscene, you may want to move on now, and ignore your past infamy, but you should be tried for treason, and jailed for blasphemy.
Two Poems on the Traditions of Peru [in English and Spanish]
Atahualpa's Game [Peruvian]Sometimes, it's not wise To share your wisdom ---as did, Atahualpa (The Inca King) in the Game of chess; thereafter, He was condemned to death.6/6/05 #713Note: Atahualpa, was the most famous of the Inca Kings, in the 16th century of Peru, I do relieve, and was held for ransom by the Spaniards.
Exalted Poetry; Two poem [and commentary]
Bells for Belphegor!..
Uamaks Aquatic [suspense: now in Spanish and English]
Delicately, my mind was selecting a muffled tune, out of the dead dark empty space surrounding me?I saw a shape on a rock, not sure who it was; I had a sensitivity though, a feeling call it, or second-sight; I've heard that before, not sure if I want to put a lot of credence into it, but so be it, the sensitivity and numbness was there. I didn't' sense any danger in the moment, in the moonlit figure, sitting on the rocks, lurking, looking out into the deep.
Death & the Supernatural: Poetry/Five Poems
Supernatural PoetryHere are five poems,-what I call-death and supernatural poems. Perhaps a bit bizarre, a few stanzas may be, but with unfailing subtlety of course, and a ting of acuteness, but we have to hag on if we want a good ride:1.
Let Your Feelings Be Your Guide
The light of all eternity shines with me now / My feelings light up my life / How I find my way is determined by them / They illumine my path and show me who I amWhen I was young, I felt so many things / Then came the day when I could not stand the pain / My world was chaos then, filled with sorrow and grief / So I closed up to protect that fragile Self withinYears would go by before I could open again / I was forced to by circumstances beyond my control / Life dealt me blows which I later recognized as my own / To awaken me to that sorrow deep within my SoulI worked hard to find my way back to the Light / To that place within where I could feel once again / There my Heart shone forth with a brave face / And shed light on all that I had concealedNow I see how I closed that tender-hearted Self / How I froze in the face of my destiny / Troubles swirled around as a constant source of grief / And I fell to sleep out of fearI am awakening now to the deep void within / Where I've stored all those troubles and pain / I fight my way back to that center once again / So I can come forth completely and be trueMy life moves forward as of this day / When I committed to finding my true Self / I've engaged all manner of demons on this journey / To return to that Source deep insideI wish for life to fill me now and bring all it can / I am thirsty for experience and for growth / I want lavish riches from my Soul to fill me / So that I can truly enjoy all that I beholdThis work is sometimes difficult as I have learned / But no more than any task requiring Love / This journey enriches me with its purpose / And fills me with Life and SoulThis is my gift to myself, my own holy Soul / To have, to hold and to behold / This Heart that bled is now healing its wounds / And can prosper again from what Life bringsLet there never be a return to where hurts cramp me up / And fill me with bitterness and pain / I am awake now, yes, and can move ahead / To appreciate all that Life has assignedOh glory to you, my Sweet Soul, for coming this day / I thank you from the bottom of my Heart / We two can sing together the praises of Love / That take us forward on this journey through timeNever let it be said that one so deserving / Could not find his or her way Home / All whom will follow shall see this Light in turn / And know that their journey can be wonI take you with me now, my Sweet Soul / For you are here in my hands / Where I can behold you / And together, we can be so bold"Move on," you say to me. "Move on, my love / The Light wishes for us to do so" / And my Heart sings with the possibilities / So that "Yes" is the answer I can render with easeMy Heart is filled with Love and joy in this moment / Knowing that I am with you, my Soul / My feelings tell me you are there and always were / Till that sleep came over me earlier onBy awakening to your touch do I know You / And find my own truth there in your eyes / You show me through Love what my purpose can be / I am inspired by this attentive designI am pleased we are here together, in this life / I am pleased that our love is so strong / For now I can reach you, my Sweet Soul Sublime / When you call to me from deep within my HeartI have your answer Dear, and know this to be true / That you and I are forever to be born / In this life or another, we join with each other / And We Soar .
Im Sorry Mom! A Mothers Day Poem
Mother's Day Poetry,I'm Sorry Mom!I'm sorry for the troubles And the worries I brought you. I'm sorry for my mistakes, I didn't mean to make you blue.
Ceasar Vallejo: Black Roses [In English and Spanish]
Cesar Vallejo: Black RosesBow down your head ol' poet- To face God's grace ahead There are no more trenchesTo dig today? In the forest of your head,So-: Bow down, bow down,Ol' barbaric poet! Death rides the horse ahead I hear the crackling of a whip See the crazed eyes of death.He summons you to his den- The devil and his wind,So-: Bow down, bow down Your blood stained brows He will take you to the edge.
|home | site map | Art of the Ocean|