Three Poems by Gemma Gorga

Second Eclogue

The storm is forming underground,
advancing toward the village like a reptile
changing its colors, camouflaged among patches
of leaves, cement, and lost footsteps.
Moments before it erupts,
noises plummet and children
swallow impossible questions.
You can hear the promise of water
in the vile belly of vipers.
This treacherous calm.
This sultriness that circles
our ankles like a cat in heat.
It frightens the way
the reigning stillness
at the center of the sphere frightens,
at the center of the clock
that amuses the dead hours
knitting with a pair of needles
quilts and shrouds
in advance.

Égloga segona

La tempesta es congria sota terra,
avança cap al poble com un rèptil
de colors canviants confós entre clapes
de fullaraca, ciment i passos perduts.
Instants abans que esclati,

s’enfonsen els sorolls e els nens
s’empassen preguntes impossibles.
S’escolta la promesa de l’aigua
en l’estómac brut dels escurçons.
Aquesta quietud traïdora.
Aquesta xafogor que ens ronda
els turmells com un gat en zel.
Espanta com espanta
la calma que regna
al centre de l’esfera,
al centre de rellotge
que entreté les hores mortes
fent mitja amb un parell d’agulles,
teixint vànoves i sudaris
per endavant.

Autobiography

After saying, unsay.
After including, exclude.
After noting, forget.
After adding, subtract.
After doing, undo.
After loving.
After.
What.

Autobiografia

Després de dir, des dir.
Després d’incloure, exloure.
Després d’anotar, oblidar.
Després de sumar, restar.
Després de fer, desfer.
Després d’estimar.
Després.
Què.

The List

Some early mornings
they call us by name
very quietly,

at the spur of the moment, they wake us up from sleep
to submerge us in another sleep
still more incomprehensible
and equivocal. 

Drowsy and barefoot we stand in line
under the teary secretion
of fluorescent lights
while we wait
for one day or another to give us permission
to awaken.

The last time I saw her
they repeated she was missing a paper
(index finger tapping, insistent,
on the peeling Formica countertop),

one paper

one single paper
or you no longer wake up.

La llista

Algunes matinades
ens criden pel nom
en veu molt baixa,

 a la impensada ens desvetllen d’un son
per submergir-nos en un altre son
encara més incompressible
i equívoc.

Endormiscats i descalços fem cua
sota la secreció lacrimal
dels fluorescents,
mentre esperem
que un dia or un altre ens donin permís
per despertar.

L’última vegada que la vaig veure
li repetien que li faltava un paper
(copets insistents de l’índex
sobre la fòrmica pelada del taulell), 

un paper, 

només un paper,
i ja no et despertes.

Gemma Gorga has published six collections of poetry: Ocellania (Birdology, Barcelona, 1997); El desordre de les mans (The Hands’ Disorder, Lleida, 2003); Instruments òptics (Optical Instruments, València, 2005); Llibre dels minuts (Book of Minutes, Barcelona, 2006), which won the Premi Miquel de Palol (2006); Diafragma (Diaphragm, Girona, 2012); and Mur (Wall, Barcelona, 2015), which won the Premi de la Critica de Poesia Catalana. Her other recent books include her essay on India, Indi Visible (Barcelona, 2018) as well as her own translation from English to Catalan of a book of poems by the contemporary Indian poet Dilip Chitre: Vint esmorzars cap a la mort (Twenty Breakfasts to Death, Vic, 2012). She is Professor of Medieval and Renaissance Spanish Literature at the University of Barcelona. 

Sharon Dolin is the author of six poetry collections: Manual for Living (2016) and Whirlwind (2012), both from the University of Pittsburgh Press; Serious Pink (Marsh Hawk Press, 2015 reissue); Burn and Dodge (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2008), winner of the AWP Donald Hall Prize for Poetry; Realm of the Possible (Four Way Books, 2004); and Heart Work (Sheep Meadow Press, 1995). She received a 2016 PEN/Heim Translation Fund grant for her translation of Gemma Gorga’s Book of Minutes (Field Translation Series/Oberlin College Press, 2019). She lives in New York City and directs Writing About Art in Barcelona each June.