Image taken from Google.
I read I, eagerly, poems from the book "Speaking Quietly" from Gabriel Celaya , back in 2000 a furious late spring, at the edge of the swamp that surrounds my people and I enjoyed soaking in his words that magical moment when they would go back whenever I mention or mention the name of this great poet.
In those moments, with a boldness that always bring me blush, I borrowed some lines you (those in italics) and had my poem "Waiting to hear your voice" that I leave now Celaya this tribute to the centenary of his birth.
poems also left two poems I have mentioned, the first "Weekend in the field" is that I borrowed the verses and the second "I must be something silly" with which I identify completely and that I love.
Hope you enjoy and forgive me the audacity Celaya.
WAITING TO HEAR YOUR VOICE.
Sitting here in the middle of nowhere
listening to the silence, you discover
in the cuckoo comes to me from afar.
fish with insistent dance break
silver green as if to see what is the case,
disappear into the center of concentric circles
that form its walls.
And the cuckoo sings, finches, geese, swallows and sparrows
amid the silence. You
you get me far
poems wrapped in Celaya:
"I consider my age, I consider this sea
shines here quiet here
trees swaying gently, the air
shattering here, the flowers here smell ... "
pm He would not give me your voice, but I have you
in the cuckoo in the water
poems in the slanting rays of the sun
que ya se marcha.
Luisa Arellano
Y aquí los poemas de Gabriel Celaya.
FIN DE SEMANA EN EL CAMPO
A los treinta y cinco años de mi vida,
tan largos, tan cargados, y, a fin de cuentas, vanos,
considero el empuje que llevo ya gastado,
la nada, de mi vida, el asco de mi mismo
que me lleva a volcarme suciamente hacia fuera,
negociar, cotizar mi trabajo y mi rabia,
ser cosa entre las cosas que choca dura y hiere.
Considero mis años,
considero este mar que aquí brilla tranquilo,
los árboles que aquí dulcemente dangles, air
shattering here, smell the flowers here,
this "here" is real and, in turn, is remote,
this "here" and "now" tells me that I
inflexible I am a mistake and the world is always beautiful,
beautiful, just beautiful, quiet and good and beautiful.
Gabriel Celaya (The poems "quietly talking" 1947)
SHOULD BE SOMETHING FOOL
I must be silly because sometimes occurs to me that I get to talk to himself,
and say crazy things, say
pretty names for girls and boats
or titles of books that no one has ever written.
I must be something silly.
Drooling, screaming and crying.
absolute verbs fill me with such tenderness and vocal
loose, useless, round, flying
all,
raise me speechless to not know what joys.
I'm happy and, therefore, also a little silly.
Gabriel Celaya (The poems "quietly talking" 1947)
The Blues of b26374fd Encinas-8b24-3cc9-a46c-88bd2887c8ac 
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