Translated to English by Santiago Ospina Celis. Cover image: painting by Calixto Robles, Ceremonia, 2005.
Another Bird
Another bird,
trembling rainbow
in my dream’s forest,
is singing deep within
the sleeping bird.
Ananyaq
Ananyaq, the Eskimo grandfather, used to say:
Women are majestic birds
that cast their rainbow on the ice;
hence, a song blossoms wherever a woman is born.
Ananyaq, the Eskimo grandfather, used to say:
The pipe of Amarok, the whaler,
knows the histories of all men;
hence, the walruses will keep our memories
after Amarok’s ship sinks in the sea.
Ananyaq, the Eskimo grandfather, used to say:
The speech of men is the tip of the iceberg.
And he also used to say:
Water is the home of Inuit,
the place where both children and histories sleep.
Ananyaq, the Eskimo grandfather,
used to remain silent.
Goat Girl
In Me are all existences contained
(The Bhagavad Gita, IX, 4)
You, Goat Girl,
nameless princess,
white fur wandering
through the forest’s silences,
through the ruins of light,
come bring the prodigious horns,
the sharpened diamonds
that wounded the yellow
lungs of the beast
into my sight—into
the garden of sleeping bats.
Goat Girl,
child of my own mist,
mother of all the stars and foe of the unicorn,
give back its animal breath
to my body.
Jungle Elders
Stand in the assembly of the elders
(Sirach, VI, 34)
I
Waiting for the primeval sound
the vaginas of silence dilate
when the jungle elders, crowned
by macaw-serpents, whistle.
Can you hear the planets shaking,
the ruminating stomachs of the ellipse?
If you can, then you are Bird,
ethereal son of the celestial quantum.
Your name: Ayahuasca.
Your source: Ayahuasca.
II
Waiting for the flower while celebrating
liturgies, the pupils of mystery dilate
when the jungle elders, crowned
by anaconda-jaguars, whistle.
Can you see the insects travelling,
the vibrant fireflies of morning’s dawn?
If you can, then you are Tiger,
ethereal son of the celestial quantum.
Your name: Ayahuasca.
Your source: Ayahuasca.
Dead Friends
Remember that his fate will also be yours;
for him it was yesterday, for you today.
(Sirach, XXXVIII, 22)
Surrender the dancing silence
green pheasant in the hands of the air,
dead friends are coming over tonight
to set on fire the last flowers.
May the flutes fly as rainbow parrots,
may the night befell with drum-like heartbeats:
out of the mystery dead friends will come
to sing with me their eternal deluge.
(I am a cemetery, a humble body
for dead friends that keep returning.
I am a cemetery, fertile land, water and sider,
for dead friends that bury the living ones.)
May the flutes fly as rainbow parrots,
may the night befell with drum-like heartbeats:
out of the mystery dead friends will come
to sing with me their eternal deluge.
Tremors from the Source
A non-existent book also states
that the one who walks the path of Buddha
must learn how to remain silent.
The book declares: “The enlightened voice
is a lotus under water.”
This thought (like a delicate deer)
becomes ink on the musical tissues
of Al-Turayek, the great mystical poet
who—according to Arabian biographers—
never existed:
“silence shells
we the creatures that live under the sky
are awaiting the tremors from the source.
Here—in my deepest waters—
poems bloom.”
Ballerina
The ballerina sleeps
upon a bird’s back (she crosses
the night)
Wind satellite
gipsy firefly,
the black eye dances and dances
visions go on dancing without stopping
and a song hive
jiggling her handkerchief.
The curtain, the cloud, the trumpets are raised!
The light ballerina’s dreams are raised!
This is what the Sacred Scores say,
the ancient testaments of Sound:
“if the Gods applaud, may your dance rains,
if a cricket sings, may your dance rains,
if a dog barks, may your dance rains.
It is necessary to go through time’s hands,
through the silent walls of dawn.”
Sleep aerial ballerina of dreams
sleep aerially in your floating room.
Ikaro Valderrama is a Colombian poet and singer-songwriter with influences from Siberian rock and folk. Performer of the art of throat singing (khai), an intangible heritage of the peoples of Central Asia and Mongolia. In his performances he plays electric guitar and chatkhan. Guitarist of the rock band TILEKEI.
According to the Mexican magazine Letras Libres, his anthology Cuentos de minicuentos establishes him as one of the masters of the short genre in recent Colombian literature. In addition, he has published the collections of poems Tengri: the book of mysteries and 575; the essays Kotodama: Word Spirit (2018) and the Metric Science of Pleasures (2006, republished in 2019). Fondo de Cultura Económica published his poems as part of the compilation: Nuestramérica es un verso, Poetic anthology 1968-1989. Member of the Editorial Committee of Gestures of Poetry (literary event of the Universidad de los Andes). Founder of Lobo Blanco Editores, Publishing House.
