Five Poems by Illeana Garma Translated by Allison A. deFreese

Poems From Part I of Uniformis: The Uniform of Flowers

By Ileana Garma

Translations by Allison A. deFreese

* 
 
I dream my mother is dancing a sick dance
girls in white uniforms walk by her side
 
my mother 
            will not want to register 
                        for nursing school
my mother won’t train to become a secretary
 
i dream of a girl who closes her eyes
a girl who has not given 40 years of her life
to a perfume counter
a girl who moves her feet to the tune 
of a melody by white tulips
 
            nursing school behind her
with eyes closed my mother walks 
            into an open present
 
like a night flower
as the wind ruins perfect white 
tulips
 










* 
 

 
From bodies, she becomes acquainted with abandonment. fleeting birdcalls at sunset. my mother becomes acquainted with her hands. a series of roads that lead to late-night acetaminophens. the tight skin. from pleasures, my mother knows emptiness. complete emptiness. luminous pleats. the room, darkness igniting where the dust draws circles. it corners her. from abandonment, my mother becomes acquainted with the hungry dogs that live in her nightmares. my mother turns on the light. she thinks of the department store’s motto: because i know how to live. from the bodies, my mother becomes acquainted with her wedding day. with the name for the lace that covered her bodice. with my father's hands unbuttoning 40 pearls. with the paleness of her legs at age eighteen. birdcalls at sunset. after that, nothing to hear.  
 
 












* 
 

 
Pleats with brown stains
hung out to dry
wrinkles that surge
like a fast-flowing river 
bulges tender to the touch 
 
the uniform
my mother puts on
doesn't fit her. 
 












*
 
 
 
Power is a spiderweb. a delicate diamond network where invisible spiders sleep. we must feed the queen. i no longer remember the light. our abdomens extended. legs brittle. power is a cold sheet upon which naked children try to sleep. the sound of your anxiety awakens me. thousands of spiders scrabble around in a scream. i no longer remember the light. my mother's silk thread is purple. my mother's silk thread is boiling blood. we must feed the queen. my mother ensnares other spiders. power is a forty-day rain. power is a line of spiders crawling over each other. children awaken. the spiders that don't retreat. we must feed the queen. that's our reason for being here.  
 
 













* 
 
 
 
A daughter inherits 
her mother's uniform 
 
            an invisible uniform 
 
that she will try to take off 
her whole life.  

Poemas de Parte I de Uniformis: El Uniforme de Las Flores 

*

Sueño que mi madre baila una danza enferma 
chicas uniformadas de blanco caminan a su lado 
mi madre
	no deseará entrar 
	a la escuela de enfermería
		mi madre no estudiará para secretaria 

sueño con una chica que cierra los ojos 
no le ha dado 40 años de su vida
a una tienda de perfumes
es una chica que mueve los pies envuelta 
por una melodía de tulipanes blancos 

la escuela de enfermería queda atrás 
mi madre camina con los ojos cerrados 
sobre un presente abierto 

como una flor nocturna
mientras el viento destroza tulipanes albos 
perfectos 










*



De los cuerpos conoce el abandono. el grito de los pájaros fugaces al caer la tarde. mi madre conoce sus manos. una serie de caminos hacia el paracetamol a altas horas de la noche. la piel tensa. sobre los placeres mi madre conoce el vacío. el vacío es absoluto. los pliegues luminosos. la habitación una oscuridad encendida donde el polvo dibuja círculos. la encierra. del abandono mi madre conoce perros hambrientos que en sus pesadillas habitan. mi madre enciende la luz. recuerda el lema de la tienda departamental: porque sé vivir. sobre los cuerpos mi madre conoce el día de su boda. el nombre del encaje que le cubría el pecho. las manos de mi padre al desabotonar 40 perlas. la palidez de sus piernas a los dieciocho años. los pájaros gritan al caer la tarde y detrás de ellos nada se escucha. 












*



Pliegues que cuelgan 
manchas color marrón 
arrugas como el transcurso 
de un río caudaloso 
bultos que duelen si los tocas 

el uniforme
se pone a mi madre 
y no le queda 












*




El poder es una telaraña. una delicada red diamante donde duermen arañitas invisibles. tenemos que darle de comer a la reina. ya no re- cuerdo la luz. tenemos el abdomen abultado. las patas quebradizas. el poder es una sábana fría donde intentan dormir niños desnudos. el ruido de tu ansiedad me despierta. miles de arañas escarban en un grito. no recuerdo la luz. la seda de mi madre es púrpura. la seda de mi madre es una sangre hirviente. tenemos que alimentar a la reina. las presas de mi madre son otras arañas. el poder es una lluvia que dura cuarenta días. el poder es una hilera de arañas arrastrándose unas a otras. niños despiertos. arañas que no retroceden. tenemos que alimentar a la reina. para eso estamos aquí. 














*



Una hija hereda
el uniforme de su madre 

	un uniforme invisible 

que intentará quitarse 
toda la vida 

Born and raised in Yucatan, MX, Ileana Garma holds a degree in Visual Arts from the Escuela Superior de Artes de Yucatán. She is also a graduate of the Escuela de Creación Literaria de la Sociedad General de Escritores Mexicanos and holds a diploma in Literature, Protocol, and Journalism from Editorial Santillana. She has published prize-winning novellas, books of poetry, and short stories. Her visual artwork has been featured in exhibitions at several museums, galleries and venues. She has been the recipient of a PECDA (Program to Encourage Artistic Creation and Development/ Programa de Estímulo a la Creación y Desarrollo Artístico) Painting Fellowship (2018-2019) as well as two FONCA (National Endowment for Culture and Arts/Fondo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes) fellowships in Poetry (2013-2014 and 2020-2021). Garma has also received the Premio National in Poetry for her book Caza de letras/The Letter Hunt (UNAM, 2012), the National Charles Bukowski Poetry Prize (2008), and was awarded the 2022 Agustín Yáñez National Short Story Prize for her book Cómo vivir sola después de los cuarenta/How to Live Alone After Forty (Libros del Marqués, 2023).

Allison A. deFreese is president of the Oregon Society of Translators and Interpreters (OSTI) and teaches in the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley’s online MA in Spanish Translation and Interpreting program. She has published a few books of verse and collaborated with other poets from the Yucatan Peninsula including David Anuar, Janil Uc Tun, and Nidia Cuan.

24 February 2026