drawing of federico garcia lorca by daniel de culla

 

A SOUL WITH SORROW, NO. THAT IS NOT DEAD

 

Federico García Lorca

 

I hear your cries for Poetry, Freedom and Love

hearing the criminal command words

given to the platoon of punishment: - Aim, shoot, fire!

There they went, to his sensitive body

all the bullets of the murderers for the Fatherland.

Sure of the unhappy encounter with Death

I know he exclaimed with others very cheerful:

Long live Freedom! I die for having loved Love!

because infraganti, in a momento, surprised him

a sheaf of God’s hypocrites

excited to kill and sing the happy kidnapping.

Those who surely exclaimed

Before the military command:

How bad it is to recite good verses out of time!

Laughing out loud like foolish spurious

who thought that by making his body disappear

this Poet, the one with the most Love

 and convincing would cease to exist

and we would not recite him

With great pleasure and care.

But nevertheless

we hear the Poet with pleasure in walls

in wolves, in gutters

knowing of the envy that causes death.

His Life and Word

have been extended, and rightly so

to both hemispheres.

 

 

 crow photo from the corvus review

(From The Corvus Review)

BLACK FRIDAY

“Black Friday”

es un bello ladrón

que, en el autobús o metro

que me lleva alegre

del trabajo a a casa

me besa y abraza

y, sin yo darme cuenta

me abre el bolso

y me roba la cartera

llevándose mi dinero

y todos los documentos

para más tarde

escapar huyendo

dejándome sola

mal descompuesta

y sin novio.

ŃMaldita sea Ń

 

statue photo by daniel de culla

THE TIRED PILGRIM

REMOVING FUR IN THE FINGERS OF HIS FEET

I have arrived as tired as my friend

To the Municipal Pilgrim Shelter

Located in the street of Fernán González

Formerly "Chinatown" of the Burgos

And, today, like any neighborhood or street

Flowered by fucking clubs and whores

Like these houses and buildings

That You are seeing.

My friend has done

The saint James Road (Camino de Santiago)

By bike and Me by train

And I am more tired than him.

The afternoon is falling

And there are many pilgrims

Especially Japanese and Chinese

Waiting as for to assigning a room.

We have met again

With two aunts met in saint James

And they didn't give us Love

Because we had not heard mass

And we had not gone to communion.

Me, as I did in Santiago

Retired from the one

That I liked so much

Because  I can't stand her scent

That gives off her body

A scent of Sacristy.

We haven't said to  them a hello!

And I took a chair

From the terrace of an opposite bar

And I placed Me next to

The statue of the "tired Pilgrim".

I took off my walking boots

And the well-soaked socks

Starting to remove  the fur

In the finghers os my feet

With the fingers of my hands

As does the pilgrim of the statue

Here, in the passage

Behind the Municipal Pilgrim Shelter

That has an elevator that goes up

To the CAB Museum of Burgos.

Sweaty and dirty socks

I threw them in the air

And just a surprise breeze

Has taken them to a tray with “piquant potatoes”

That some Chinese where tasting

With some "tanks of beer”.

A funny pilgrim

Who said he came from Jaca

But was not Aragonese

Began to sing some lyrics:

“A terrace, tables and chairs

Wine glasses, beer and bread

Some potatoes and pizzas

The pilgrim brothers and sisters

Sharing in love and unity.

We meet remembering

And quenching our thirst

With the memory of saint James

Celebrating his memory

In the smell of blessed pilgrims

And piss piles that came with the idea

To find Love and Perfection

Like this one who is taking off fur

From the toes

With the fingers of his hands

And now, will come, very kind

To invite us to a shot of green pomace

With some little pastry

Semlling his hands to cheese feet.

And Saint James in our ear will tell us:

“Do not eat of those littles pastry.

Where there is charity and love

Here the plague is present ".

 

photo of daniel de culla and his daughter isabelle

Isabelle’s Selfie. At right: Daniel

 

TWO LIVES

There are two Lives

Two bellies, to which more.

The one, by Isabelle

Waiting for a new life:

Kylian's, boy, who, now

In the beautiful Isabelle’s belly

Is sucking his finger, no doubt

And that his first cry birthing

Will be: "To drink, to drink!"

Like the Rabelais’ Gargantua

At birth.

The other, by Daniel

Whose good is based on eating well

And at an incovenient time

In the Rabelais’ Pantagruel style

Who calls his belly "Thelema"

And it is very similar to him

In the Gustave Doré’s illustration

As do You see.

Those two bellies

Of Duchess and Duke

Are two "O" that we can pronounce

Happy seeing them.

Two wonders of Creation

That produce good effect.

Compelling reasons

That the life exists.

It is true that a child will come

With pleasure and with care

Hearing him, with joy, cry

Learning what birth is

Since then,

As true as that Daniel’s belly

So slender

Is making a thousand progress

Without lying to Pantagruel

Eternal companion of eaters

And convincing dinners

Converted, today and now

In an oracle

Of the divine bottle

From Ribera’s  wine.

 

photo of rabbit by daniel de culla

 photo of donkey by daniel de culla

© Daniel de Culla

 photo of daniel de culla

Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet and photographer. He is a member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, and other groups. He is director of the Gallo Tricolor Review and the Robespierre Review. He has participated in many festivals of poetry and of theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Geneva.  He has exhibited in many galleries including Madrid, Burgos, London and Amsterdam. He moves between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: gallotricolor@yahoo.com