UNHEIMLICH
He wanted to choose between heaven and his philosophy. His name was Horatio and he had two lengthy periods of doubt as had his friend since the death of his daddy. Something emerged to find him, they would talk through the long nights. Something seemed like the sound coming from his computer screen. All white space has Something. Something is an old relative you don’t recognize but who knows your name and murmurs Something that resembles unnnnn. The un-nnnnn seeks to know about Something German, Viennese and decadent whose name only he knows, whether you might be able to get close or something to that thing Something and foreign.
About his friend, Horatio says there was a crime in the family. Something sitting at the banquet for some deceased person. Someone said that the food was delicious but it seemed like a dead people’s banquet. Something mechanical, and in series, this food has wilted and breathes out a strong smell like the blow that eliminated Horacio’s friend. Strong like the sound of the Unnnn swelling destiny you write the form of your dead person, their cadaver made of the language of the living, made with the only force that can resuscitate them.
You know your dead like Horatio knows the choice between his heaven and his philosophy,
singular example of some language.
You know the pressingly urgent question of Horatio’s friend resolved within a unity of time someone recounted years before in the 17th century.
Before, Something knew that arguments are just as false as Horatio’s friend. Arguments say Un-nnnnnnnnnn, something Horatio chose when Something would have crept near his not so very brave friend, near the unresolved gaze of the argument, near you, Horatio: between an espada and a word, there Horatio your sole argument. The Word is a singular price, like a violet swatch something presses urgently, it costs it leaves you the cost of a discovery and Something disap-pears, some sound similar to memory. Something passes mewing near the refrigerator, pouncing on the bread you protected, and strong, once again, falls from the piece of furniture. It’s illusion, you repeat. You repeat something you remember and in the pleasure of its exorcism you define the plot, new.
Beyond heaven your philosophy Horatio makes no mark. There is more he tells you that thing that names itself familiar, that’s called your friend, but you are Horatio and you feel only your friend’s sadness, his eyes with a prisoner’s gaze, his face with the features of a poor man without misery, his body stopped by the weight of the arguments they gave him, and the reflection, not the shadow, of a smile. Something breaks your cuore Horatio, something perplexing moves you to accompaniment, you see it die and you can do nothing more than say as if for the first time
unnnnnnn………………………………………………………………………
tt………………..tt…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
.
UNHEIMLICH
Quiso elegir entre el cielo y su filosofía. Se llamaba Horacio y tenía dos lustros de dudas como su amigo desde la muerte del padre. Algo salía a encontrarlo, conversaban en las noches largas. Algo se parecía al sonido de la pantalla de su computadora. Todo espacio en blanco tiene Algo. Algo es un viejo familiar que no conoces pero sabe tu nombre y murmura Algo parecido a unnnnn. El unnnnnn busca saber de Algo alemán, vienés y decadente que sólo él sabe nombrar, si puedes tú acercarte algo a este Algo y extranjero.
Horacio dice de su amigo que hubo una culpa familiar. Algo sentado en el banquete de algún di-funto. Alguno dijo que la comida fue sabrosa pero se parecía al banquete de los muertos. Algo mecánico, y seriado, este alimento se ha vuelto mustio y exhala un olor fuerte como el golpe que liquidó al amigo de Horacio. Fuerte como el sonido del Unnnn creciendo sino escribes la forma de tu muerto, su cadáver hecho del lenguaje de los vivos, hecho con la única fuerza de resucitar-los.
Tú lo conoces como Horacio conoce la elección entre su cielo y su filosofía,
ejemplo singular de algún lenguaje.
Tú sabes lo apremiante del amigo de Horacio resuelto en una unidad de tiempo que alguien contó años antes en el siglo XVII.
Antes, Algo supo que los argumentos tienen la misma falsedad del amigo de Horacio. Los argu-mentos dicen Unnnnnnnnnnn, algo que eligió Horacio cuando Algo hubo acercado sus pasos al amigo poco valiente, al irresoluto mirar del argumento, a ti, Horacio: entre una sword y una pa-labra, ahí Horacio tu único argumento. The Word is a singular price, como un retazo violeta al-go apremia, cuesta te deja el costo de un hallazgo y desaparece Algo, algún sonido semejante al recuerdo. Algo pasa maullando cerca de la heladera, persigue el pan que protegiste, y fuerte, otra vez, cae desde el mueble. Es la ilusión, repites. Repites algo que recuerdas y en el goce de su exorcismo defines la trama, nueva.
Más allá del cielo tu filosofía Horacio no hace mella. Hay más te dice ese que se nombra fami-liar, que se llama tu amigo, pero tú eres Horacio y sientes solo la tristeza de tu amigo, sus ojos con una mirada de reo, su cara con las facciones de un hombre pobre y sin miseria, su cuerpo encorvado por el peso de los argumentos que le dieron, y el reflejo, no la sombra, de una sonrisa. Algo te parte el cuore Horacio, algo desatinado te lleva a acompañarlo, lo ves morir y no puedes hacer nada más que decir como por primera vez unnnnnnn………………………………………………………………………
tt………………..tt……………………………………………………………………………………………………. .
Virginia Lucas (Monteviedo, Uruguay, 1977) is a poet, editor, and literature professor. Her books include the poetry collections Épicas marinas (Artefato, 2004) and No es de acanto la flor en piedra (Lapsus, 2005), and the anthologies Orsai: género, erotismo y subjetivid-ad (Pirates, MVD, 2008) and Muestra de cuentos lesbianos (Trilce, 2010). She is Literature Director of the National Office of Culture (with the Uruguyuan Ministry of Education and Culture) and Research Coordinator of Queer Studies Montevideo.
Jen Hofer is a Los Angeles-based poet, translator, social justice interpreter, teacher, knitter, book-maker, public letter-writer, urban cyclist, and co-founder of the language justice and language experimentation collaborative Antena and local language justice collective Antena Los Ángeles. Her most recent translations are Style / Estilo by Dolores Dorantes (Kenning Editions 2016) and Intervenir / Intervene by Dolores Dorantes and Rodrigo Flores Sánchez (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2015). Her translation of Virginia Lucas’s Amé.RICA is forthcoming from Litmus Press.