Murray Edmond
(Nacido en 1949) es un poeta de Nueva Zelanda, dramaturgo, editor, académico y crítico.
Edmond nació en Hamilton, Isla Norte. Fue educado en la Escuela Secundaria Hamilton Boys y en la Universidad de Auckland, donde recibió un BA y MA en Inglés. Editó brevemente la revista literaria Freed en 1970-1971 y participó en teatro alternativo. Su primera colección de poesía, Entering the Eye, se publicó en 1973.
Edmond se trasladó en 1974 a Europa, donde trabajó en teatro (sobre todo en Londres), volvió a Nueva Zelanda en 1976, donde trabajó de nuevo en teatro alternativo. En 1983 fue escritor en residencia en la Universidad de Canterbury. Al año siguiente se trasladó a Auckland, en 1985 comenzó a enseñar el programa de postgrado en drama en la Universidad de Auckland. Su musical, "A New South Pacific", fue puesto en escena en 1987.
Edita la revista on-line, Ka Mate Ka Ora:. Un diario de Nueva Zelanda de poesía y poética.
Publicaciones
Poesía:
Entering the Eye . Dunedin, NZ: Caveman Press, 1973.
Patchwork: Poems . Eastbourne, NZ: Hawk Press, 1978.
End Wall: Poems . Auckland & New York: Auckland University Press, 1981.
Letters and Paragraphs . Christchurch, NZ: Caxton, 1987.
From the Word Go . Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1992; Chicago: Auckland University Press, 2013.
The Switch . Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1994; Chicago: Auckland University Press, 2013.
Names Manes: Twenty-one stories . privately printed, 1996.
Laminations . Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2000.
A Piece of Work . Kaneóhe, HI: Tinfish, 2002.
Fool Moon: Poems (photos by Joanna Forsberg). Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2004.
Walls to Kick and Hills to Sing From: A comedy with interruptions . Auckland & Chicago: Auckland University Press, 2010.
Three Travels (photos by Joanna Forsberg). Auckland: Holloway, 2009.
No Ficción:
Noh Business . Berkeley, CA: Atelos, 2005.
Jungla
Nada sino naranjas plátanos y arroz
serpientes y sombras
Los dueños regresarán en seis meses
“Mientras tanto, cuide a esos hombres”
El cielo blanco se vuelve negro por las noches
El cielo negro se vuelve blanco en el día
Esos hombres horribles que edifican este refugio
ignoran si alguna vez les pagarán
El virus del tedio
infecta todo el fervor de la empresa
A mi novio le sorprendió haber estado conmigo tanto tiempo
y por eso después de tres meses se fue
A los seis meses los dueños volvieron
Viajamos tres días de regreso a la ciudad
Me dejaron en la plaza
sin pagarme un centavo
El aire es como el hielo
Mi vestido cuelga con holgura y pureza
Mi pensamiento está fijo en la nada
Mis rodillas apretadas contra mi mentón
Guido se acerca a mí
Toma esto me dice
Yo siento el calor del dinero en mis manos
y lo miro partir con afecto
Traducido por Rogelio Guedea
http://poesianeozelandesa.com/poesia/
Rhapsody in pink
all we had was cars
we hopped from foot to foot
rustic rock'n'roll
fever at a puritan wake
fumbling for a kiss
lacking both a capital
or a French letter
nevertheless our imaginary
start
drove us round the lake
drove round and round the lake
and we painted all our nails
kind of low-brow posh
we heaped coals on our lips
and saw the mystic sun
ends of the earth
that place was called
-- from Walls to kick and hills to sing from, a comedy with interruptions by Murray Edmond (2010)
Conversation with My Uncle
the last time we spoke about it you told me
how she had raised the glass high in the air
and poured the beer all over his head
now don't try to tell me that wasn't what you said
or I'm a monkey's uncle
he brought her a cake he bought her a ring
and what did she do when she got those things?
she swallowed the ring and she opened the sash
threw out the cake and slammed the window crash
or I'm a monkey's uncle
don't tell me you were pulling my leg
and now you've decided to pull the other one
when he came home drunk on his nose was a peg
she opened the door and showed him a gun
or wasn't that how the story went
long ago and far away is no excuse
now they're both dead the farm's been sold
he was a bastard she had a screw loose
or at least that's the story I was told
by that magpie in that tree
in the tree out of the tree who's to say
whether the story went that or this way
the good old days are better when they're gone
that's not a magpie I'm sure you're wrong
that's a monkey don't you see
Ballad of Child-Rearing
Two-of-a-kind like birds-in-the-hand
Like lines in a play
We were swaddled and laid on our backs
The custom of that time
The backs of our skulls are flat
Our teeth are rotten with strontium
Like a rabbit or a horse
We carry the marks of our astonishment
The government waited three days
Before announcing the explosion
The cloud from Chernobyl
Took a circuitous course through the centre of the universe
There is no sky like that one
You can say that again
And you did
It is very like a whale
The whale breaches with no land in sight
Aurora australis
The light in your head shows up in the photo
In x-ray images our bones are like birds
Jungle
Nothing but oranges bananas and rice
Snakes and darkness
The owners will return in six months
Meanwhile look after these men
The white sky turns black at night
The black sky turns white by day
These ugly men building this resort
Do not know if they will ever be paid
The poison of boredom
Infects all ventures of enterprise
My boyfriend is surprised he stayed with me so long
But after three months he has gone
After six months the owners return
We drive three days back to the city
They leave me in the square
They do not pay me a cent
The air is like ice
My dress hangs cool and pure
My mind is fixed on the nothing I have
My knees are pulled up to my chin
Guido walks up to me
Here take this he says
The wad of money is warm in my hand
I watch his departing back with affection
The Cold War
The cold war was at home
And it also filled the whole earth
A fallout shelter in the backyard
A Russian car you did not want
Undiscussability and non-initiation
Its apostles had spread out through the world
In a religious kind of movement
The name of Patrice Lumumba was pure language power
The invocation of the lost and future world
Became our daily bread
You are feeding the chickens
With your little friend a tiny white-skinned boy in knickers
Your babcia watches
The cold war was always going to last forever
It had no choice and neither did we
It was a kind of character or relative
Your grandfather holds the reins of the horse
The horse is coming into the picture from the right
The Russian car is in the background
How much worse off you were
We loved the cold war like we loved ice cream
It gave us peace silence time to resent
Gift-wrapped and passed from hand to hand unopened
It is the anecdote of the piece of string
_______________________________
El Traductor
Rogelio Guedea. (México, 1974)
Traductor y director de la página “Poesía Neozelandesa”
Es licenciado en Derecho por la Universidad de Colima y doctor en Letras por la Universidad de Córdoba (España), con un POST-DOC en Literatura Latinoamericana por la Texas A&M University (USA).Es autor de más de cuarenta libros en ensayo, narrativa, traducción y poesía. En poesía es autor de: Los dolores de la carne (Praxis, 1997), Testimonios de la ausencia (Praxis, 1998), Senos sones y otros huapanguitos (Fondo Editorial Tierra Adentro, 2001), Mientras olvido (Follas Novas, Premio Internacional de Poesía Rosalía de Castro 2001), Ni siquiera el tiempo (Instituto Mexiquense de Cultura, 2002), Colmenar (LunArena2004), Razón de mundo (Instituto de Cultura de Nayarit, Premio Nacional de Poesía Amado Nervo 2004), Fragmento (Instituto Sonorense de Cultura, Premio Nacional de Poesía Sonora 2005), Borrador (Cedma, 2007), Corrección (Praxis, 2007), Kora (Rialp Ediciones, Premio Adonáis de Poesía 2008), Exilio. Poemas 2001-2010 (Rilke Ediciones, 2010), Campo minado (Aldus, 2012) y Si no te hubieras ido/If only you hadn’t gone (Cold Hub Press, 2014). Actualmente es columnista de los medios mexicanos Sinembargo y La Jornada Semanal.
Más sobre Rogelio Guedea en www.rogelioguedea.com
Correo electrónico: rguedea@hotmail.com
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