Cesar Vallejo (1892–1938)

Sermón sobre la muerte

Y, en fin, pasando luego al dominio de la muerte,
que actúa en escuadrón, previo corchete,
párrafo y llave, mano grande y diéresis,
¿a qué el pupitre asirio? ¿a qué el cristiano púlpito,
el intenso jalón del mueble vándalo
o, todavía menos, este esdrújulo retiro?

¿Es para terminar,
mañana, en prototipo del alarde fálico,
en diabetes y en blanca vacinica,
en rostro geométrico, en difunto,
que se hacen menester sermón y almendras,
que sobran literalmente patatas
y show more este espectro fluvial en que arde el oro
y en que se quema el precio de la nieve?
¿Es para eso, que morimos tánto?
¿Para sólo morir,
tenemos que morir a cada instante?
¿Y el párrafo que escribo?
¿Y el corchete deísta que enarbolo?
¿Y el escuadrón en que falló mi casco?
¿Y la llave que va a todas las puertas?
¿Y la forense diéresis, la mano,
mi patata y mi carne y mi contradicción bajo la sábana?

¡Loco de mí, lovo de mí, cordero
de mí, sensato, caballísimo de mí!
¡Pupitre, sí, toda la vida; púlpito,
también, toda la muerte!
Sermón de la barbarie: estos papeles;
esdrújulo retiro: este pellejo.

De esta suerte, cogitabundo, aurífero, brazudo,
defenderé mi presa en dos momentos,
con la voz y también con la laringe,
y del olfato físico con que oro
y del instinto de inmovilidad con que ando,
me honraré mientras viva —hay que decirlo;
se enorgullecerán mis moscardones,
porque, al centro, estoy yo, y a la derecha,
también, y, a la izquierda, de igual modo. show less

Despite his short life, Peru’s César Vallejo’s body of poetry is worthy of inclusion among that of the last century’s great Spanish-language poets: Rubén Darío, Pablo Neruda and Federico García Lorca. This volume collects the two books published during Vallejo’s lifetime, as well as the posthumous poems, for the first time with a sole translator. Mario Vargas Llosa’s foreword and Efraín Kristal’s introduction might be reason enough to buy the book, but a single read-through show more puts The Complete Poetry on the must-have list. The early poems’ tension between carnality and divinity, his Whitman-esque invocation of the voice of his people and the transition to more political and prose poems, taken all at once, are proof positive of the range Vallejo’s command of a luxurious language granted him.

(From the Sacramento News & Review, 3/29/07, http://www.newsreview.com/sacramento/Content?oid=302948) show less

Vallejo makes some thorough and universal observations about the nature of all war and revolution here, but he specifically explores the nature of the Spanish Civil War and what it means for the Spanish identity. With a voice alternately declarative and inquiring, yet always commanding, he reaches a pinnacle of force with language and imagery that finally reveals the country as a chimera of both beauty and bloodshed. Vallejo illustrates the haunting and bittersweet complexity of the human show more experience and the human identity. He illustrates that great violence, in both the poetic and literal sense of the word, colors that experience. show less

Giving this book stars would be completely meaningless. Vallejo's jottings would probably take up one to two pages of actual text; here they're spread out across about 80 small pages, with the Spanish in parallel. It's lovely, and reminds me yet again that anglophones are very bad at the jeu d'esprit, the aphorism, and the short text. I have no idea why. Anyway, three great thoughts from Cesar:

Love liberates me insofar as I *am able* to leave off loving. The person I love must leave me the show more freedom to be able to hate her at any moment. (49)

He's going to take a shit, and that's why he puts on his glasses. (71)

Listening to Beethoven, a woman and a man are crying faced with the greatness of that music. And I say to them: maybe it's you who have this greatness in your hearts. (75) show less