Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]

English Version

1) Grendel's Divorce

You must know that I do not hate

And that I hate you,
Because everything dead has two

Sides;
A sound is one arm of the quiet,
Ice has its warm half.

I hate you in order to start hating you
To begin life again
And never to stop hating you:
That is why I do not hate you yet.

I hate you, and I do not hate you,

As if I carried
Locks in my pocket: to a past of
A feeble, crumbling joy-

My hate has two lives, in order to

Hate you,
That is why I hate you, when I do

Do not hate you,
And also why I hate you when

I do?!.

#700 6/1/05

2) Grendel's Waiting

Do not go far off, for more than a

Moment; because-because-
It's difficult to say this: a moment is not,
Not long, and Grendel will be waiting
For you, as in an empty cave,
Nothing is safe.

Don't be alone, even for an hour,
Because-because-Grendel's

Friends, full of anguish will run,
Run after you, choking the life
Out of your heart?

?oh, hide your silhouette, yes
Never dissolve it, just hide it,

Hide it, eyelids and all into an
Empty space; fine my
Friend,

Because-because-in that moment
You wander off, you will have gone

So far, you will not come back; and
And love will remain here dying?

#701 6/2005

3) Counting Days
[Prose poetry]

Each day I wake-up I
Thank God for another-; for
today is only today. It has its
own history you might say,
which consumes all of the past for me.

When I look back, it seems
the days, no longer days (rather
history now) come and gone,
had wings on.

I do not want to swallow-up
tomorrow, it will come and pass,
and be consumed like a burning
patch of autumn leaves.

#703 6/2005

4) Papa Augusto's Hipódromo
[At the Racetrack in Lima, Peru-5/2005]

While I sit here, in the open,
drifting in myself,
I must have stared a long time
down the racetrack, beyond the
horses,
someone yells
"Trifecta!" everyone's in my space
I won!!

#707 6/1/05

Spanish Version

1) El Divorcio de Grendel

Usted debe saberlo que yo no odio

Y lo que yo odio,
porque todo lo muerto tiene dos

Lados;
Un sonido es un brazo de la calma,
El hielo tiene su mitad caliente.

Lo odio con el fin de comenzar a odiarle
para Comenzar la vida otra vez
Y nunca parar odiándolo:
Es por eso que no le odio aún.

Le odio, y no le odio,

Como si yo llevé
Cerraduras en mi bolsillo: a un pasado de
Una débil, desmenuzada alegría-

Mi odio tiene dos vidas, con el fin
de odiarlo

Es por eso que le odio, cuando lo hago

No lo odio,
Y también por qué lo odio cuando

¡Hago ?!.

*700 6/1/05

2) La Espera de Grendel

No vaya muy lejos, por más que un

Momento; " porque porque "
Es difícil de decir esto: .: un momento no es,
tan largo, y Grendel estará esperando
Para usted, como en una cueva vacía,
Nada es seguro.

No esté solo, aún por una hora,
por que, por que, los amigos

de Grendel, llenos de angustia correrán,
corriendo después que tu, ahogando la vida
fuera de tu corazón ?

?oh, oculte su silueta, sí
Nunca disuélvalo, solamente ocúltelo,

Oculte ello, párpados y todo en un
Espacio vacío; bien mi
Amigo,

" Porque porque en " ese momento
Usted vaga , usted se habrá ido

tan lejos, usted no volverá; y
¿Y el amor permanecerá aqui muriendo?

*701 6/2005

3) Conteo de Días
[ Poesía de prosa]

Cada día despèrtando yo
Agradeciendo a Dios por otro-; por
hoy es sólo hoy. Esto tiene su
propia historia usted podría decir,
que consume todo el pasado
para mí.

Cuando miro hacia atrás, parece
los días,dias largos (más bien
la historia ahora) vienen y van,
tenían alas sobre.

No quiero tragarlo
mañana, esto vendrá y pasará,
y ser consumido como una combustión
pedazo de hojas de otoño.
*703 6/2005

4) El hipódromo de Papá Augusto
[ En el Hipódromo en Lima, Perú-5/2005]

Mientras me siento aquí, en el abierto,
llegando a la deriva yo mismo,
Debo haber mirado fijamente mucho tiempo
abajo el hipódromo, más allá de los
caballos,
alguien grita
¡" Trifecta! " todo el mundo en mi espacio
¡¡Gané!!

In these poems we see not only human nature at work [in Grendel], but the nature of the invisible world perhaps, trying to get into Mr. Siluk's poems. A joyful win at the racetracks, and counting days, can be a bore. All made to order for a nice afternoon in reading. Rosa Penaloza

---

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