Life keeps hurtling forward, bursting forth. It’s spring in California, the jasmine’s come in and the streaky roses. It’s been raining hard all morning; just now it stopped abruptly. Lyn writes in My Life, “she observed that detail minutely, as if it were botanical. As if words could unite an ardent intellect with the external material world.” This is Lyn, vitally observing, drawing it all into relation, the mind and the world, botanical, passionate. Making words hold life, making words as life. “Such that art is inseparable from the search for reality,” she writes.
Toward a poetry and poetics of the Americas (34)
Diocelina Restrepo, 'What the Great Armadillo Said in Dreams to Me'
Narrated by Diocelina Restrepo, Yukpa People, Sokorpá, Colombia
Assembled and translated by Javier Taboada after Anne Goletz’s research
From Rothenberg and Taboada, the big book of the Americas, now in progress
“our food, the worm
“is among you
“we suffer, for our land has been burned