Erín Moure & Elisa Sampedrin
MIS/TRANSLATION
 

Dictate

 

By its wheated thread, it penetrated
worked tin, my lips’ opening.
By its parasite, it penetrated
deeply my pectoral cloud, to merge with
sky.
By its singular anchor, it penetrated
bleeding me of verse in the sea’s
oration.
And so. All coasts arrive
at this barrier.
And light spreads. Imprudently, the melee
in the body raises its unique mask.
For here i did not exist yet,
wings open, and so, and so, this.



(a very brief history of translation)


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