mayo 31, 2020


💬 Ayer participé de una consigna hermosa que tiró Ezequiel Zaidenwerg para las stories de «Orden de traslado» (si aún no lo hicieron, vayan a oír todos los episodios de este genial podcast en Spotify)


💬 Abajo dejo el poema completo de Marianne y el videíto breve de mi participación (que por supuesto es una traducción de Ezequiel)


POETRY – by Marianne Moore (1887 – 1972)

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important

beyond all this fiddle.

Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it,

one discovers that there is in

it after all, a place for the genuine.

Hands that can grasp, eyes

that can dilate, hair that can rise

if it must, these things are important not be –

cause a


high sounding interpretation can be put upon them

but because they are

useful; when they become so derivate as to

become unintelligible, the

same thing may be said for all us – the we

do not admire what

we cannot understand. That bat,

holding on upside down or in quest of some –

thing to


eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll,

a tireless wolf under

a tree, the immovable critic twinkling his skin like a

horse that feels a flea, the base –

ball fan, the statistician – case after case

could be cited did

one wish it; nor is it valid

to discriminate against «business documents



school-books»; all these phenomena are important.

One must make a distinction

however: when dragged into prominence by half


the result is not poetry,

nor till the autocrats among us can be

«literalists of

the imagination» – above

insolence and triviality and can present


for inspection, imaginary gardens with real toads

in them, shall we have

it. In the meantime, if you demand on one hand,

in defiance of their opinion –

the raw material of poetry in

all its rawness, and

that which is on the other hand,

genuine, then you are interested in poetry.