RAIS NEZA BONEZA [11.260]

RAIS NEZA BONEZA

Poesía Actual de la República Democrática del Congo

Rais Neza Boneza nació en 1979 en la provincia de Katanga en la República democrática de Congo. Vive hoy en Noruega. Es poeta, escritor y activista de la paz. Sus obras publicadas son: ‘Nómada, un poeta refugiado’; ‘Esmeralda negra’; y ‘Cómo conseguir la Paz con medios africanos’.

Rais Neza Boneza (b.1979) is an artist, fiction writer, poet and peace activist originally from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Currently, he lives in Trondheim, Norway.  He is a member of the TRANSCEND Network for Peace, Development and Environment and received an honorary doctorate degree (Honoris Causae) from the Institute of Management (ISGM) and the University of CEPROMEC in Burundi. Inspired by the reality of exile, Rais’ work presents a successful mixture of the universal and the particular in a search for freedom and wholeness. His writing has been published in different magazines worldwide. 

Vientos africanos

Vientos salinos

Imágenes de ganado y de pastores,

Vida difícil del desierto,

Espejismo de ciudades de sal distantes.

Vientos Mandinga,

Cantos místicos Bantú,

Vientos del Nilo,

Manantial de leche pura.

Verdadero sentido de la existencia,

Zumos de los mitos de tiempos primeros,

Vientos de las cumbres,

Olas de naturaleza verde.

Encarnación de sonidos misteriosos,

Vientos tropicales, cazando,

Los verdaderos propietarios aletargados de tierra virgen.

Vientos de los sonidos,

Del Norte al Sur de Este a Oeste,

Abriendo el camino a la noche y al día,

Negro y Blanco, vibrando en la inmovilidad.

Vientos de colores múltiples,

Diversos como fueron las flores en el Edén.

¡Sí ! La madre patria es rica

De los lagos a los ríos a los desiertos a los montes.

Canto de un continente, madre de la civilización,

Bello surgimiento, buscando la unidad

Eres la perla de la tierra,

Perla de grandeza incomparable.

Traducción al castellano de Marcel Kemadjou

OLD BEAUTY

A flight of times,
A flight of petals,
The wind blows,
The perfect fades
Charms vanish.
Endless smartness,
Eternal sensuality,
O wild beauty!
The world adores your youthfulness,
We celebrate the death of time.






The Worshipper

I climb the hill of my feelings
To satisfy my sight.
I seek to find, my reason is lost.
In my estrangement my soul speaks.

Abandoned as a discarded plant
I look to thee;
All thy greatness is in my sight.
You leave your dwelling
As thy sun seeks its resting place.

I am rooted to your very being;
My branches cover your presence;
You move under my shadow.

I nderstand with the vigor of thought,
Thy body but with a glance.
I admire you without weariness
And explore you from discovery to wonder.

I praise thy sculptor,
Him, the all-wise, the all-bestower
Who, beneath the pounding of my misled heart,
Long ago fashioned your existence
For the accomplishment of compassion
And the gift of the essence of love.

I am the spirit who observes you;
You do not know me,
Yet you are a reality well known by me.

Source of poetic water from above,
Inspirational rain from the sky,
From thee my feelings are nurtured
Even in thy obscurity of me.

My words remain silent,
And for thee my existence still a fable
A dream that I shall never share,
A poem never to be written.






The Birth of the Sun

My tears are the lines of my novel
The characters are rigid
Stiff and ready to act in my cynical scenario
I am the milestone of all misfortunes
Miseries that hunts the running-gods in the firmamen
My splendour reaches the stars in the immeasurable spaces
And always declines as I attain 'Isis' giving birth to Apollo

--- extracts from Black Emeralds and Nomad, a refugee poet ---