Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 - 1972

The first full-length assortment in English by way of one among Latin America’s most important twentieth-century poets. 

respected via the likes of Octavio Paz and Roberto Bolano, Alejandra Pizarnik continues to be a hidden treasure within the U.S. Extracting the Stone of insanity: Poems 1962–1972 comprises all of her heart to overdue paintings, in addition to a range of posthumously released verse. passionate about subject matters of solitude, formative years, insanity and demise, Pizarnik explored the moving valences of the self and the border among speech and silence. In her personal phrases, she was once attracted to "the ache of Baudelaire, the suicide of Nerval, the untimely silence of Rimbaud, the mysterious and fleeting presence of Lautréamont,” in addition to to the “unparalleled depth” of Artaud’s “physical and ethical suffering.”

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I see via a replicate, at nighttime. I expect a spot that nobody else has identified. I sing of distances, I listen the voices of birds that have been painted onto timber decked out like church buildings. My nakedness gave you gentle like a lamp. You pressed my physique to avoid the nice chilly of evening, the blackness. My phrases call for silence and deserted areas. There are phrases with palms; slightly written, they seek my middle. There are phrases condemned just like the lilac in a tempest. There are phrases similar to a few one of the lifeless, and from those I desire those that evoke the doll of a few unsatisfied lady. Supposing that somebody observed me crying and held me tightly to their chest, my self will be extinguished. even though it’s actual I’d then be capable to see their eyes the way in which Van Gogh as soon as checked out the sunlight and broke it up into little revolving suns. Do you spell “to see” with an “r”? The dolls are negative. And why no longer? If animals are negative, and if rocks, if guy. within the poem, the dolls exhibit themselves and so do different issues which are the evening. The poem, the evening. you recognize in regards to the evening? Rose-colored are the roses within the fingers of the one that is rarely chuffed, she whose colour is infernal. evening, i feel the silence. evening emerges from loss of life. evening emerges from lifestyles. At evening, these missing every thing thrive. And so, within the morning, I screamed. evening of mine, toddler, inhabited via parasites. Oh my love, name to me with a reputation that's associated with an outdated, forgotten tenderness. i'll reconstruct the plot of a wholly inner tragedy. every thing is an inside. Tabula Rasa cisterns in my reminiscence rivers in my reminiscence pools in my reminiscence always water in my reminiscence wind in my reminiscence blowing in my reminiscence Affiche I driven myself rather a lot to the right way to learn in my sobbing just a sign Oh kindle your eyes with the colour of start Contemplation With their historical worry, the voices sob or lament themselves. Fugitive shapes that experience come for the rite during which they are going to rip out your center out of your far-off determine. The evening consists of bolts of lightning in the back of your masks. They cackle via you, they pummel you with black birds. Enemy shades shape an alliance within the tragedy. after we reached the heart of the darkness, the wooded area opened. The terrified shapes died and there has been not an out of doors or an within. They felled you, you disappeared with the masks on your hand. after which there has been not anything to resemble a center. A be aware For Juan Batlle Planas Occasioned through the maker of vertigos, inscribed at the partitions of the black condo, a be aware is sacrificing the one with ferocious eyes. In loving silence she starts off making a song the tune for the reclining determine. The track for the Reclining determine All day lengthy the invisible one with seven faces weeps for me. The blameless one from where of his torture. the person who was once born of his leaving. All evening lengthy the reclining determine goals of me. Violently immobile, he smiles, the cherished. Elegies to my misfortune are his funereal goals.

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