Poet, essayist, and translator Ulalume González de Leόn believed that “Everything has already been said,” and thus each act of creation is a rewriting, reshuffling, and reconstructing of one great work. For this reason, she chose the title Plagios (Plagiarisms) for her book of collected poems. Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz called González de León “the best Mexicana poet since Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz,” recognizing the visionary quality of her work. This second of three bilingual volumes presents several short collections of poems González de Leόn produced from 1970 to 1975. Through her experimentation with unconventional syntax and borrowed texts, the poet skillfully blends anatomical, scientific, and philosophical vocabulary with richly erotic imagery to question our assumptions about identity and intimacy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ulalume González de León was born in 1928 in Montevideo, Uruguay, the daughter of two poets, Roberto Ibáñez and Sara de Ibáñez. She studied literature and philosophy at the Sorbonne in Paris and at the University of Mexico. While living in Mexico in 1948, Ulalume became a naturalized Mexican citizen. She married painter and architect Teodoro González de León, and together they had three children. She published essays, stories, and poems and worked with Mexican poet and Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz as an editor of two literary journals, Plural and Vuelta. She also translated the work of H.D., Elizabeth Bishop, Ted Hughes, Lewis Carroll, and e.e. cummings.
In the 1970s in Latin America, González de León was part of a generation of women writers challenging the traditional identities of women, marriage, and relationships. Her poetry earned her many awards, including the Xavier Villaurrutia Prize, the Flower of Laura Poetry Prize, and the Alfonso X Prize. Ulalume González de León died in 2009 of respiratory failure and complications of Alzheimer’s.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATORS
Terry Ehret, one of the founders of Sixteen Rivers Press, has published four collections of poetry, most recently Night Sky Journey from Kelly’s Cove Press. Her literary awards include the National Poetry Series, the California Book Award, the Pablo Neruda Poetry Prize, a nomination for the Northern California Book Reviewer’s Award, and five Pushcart Prize nominations. From 2004–2006, she served as the poet laureate of Sonoma County, where she lives and teaches writing.
John Johnson’s poetry has appeared in many print and online journals, including Boxcar Poetry Review, Clade Song, Triggerfish Critical Review, and Web Conjunctions. He is a long-time student of the Spanish language and has studied letter-press printing with Iota Press of Sebastopol, producing chapbooks and bilingual broadsides.
Nancy J. Morales, a first-generation American of Puerto Rican parents, earned her bachelor’s degree from Rutgers College, a master’s in teaching English as a Second Language from Adelphi University, and a doctorate in education from Teachers College at Columbia University. She has taught at Dominican University, College of Marin, Sonoma State University, and other schools, from elementary to graduate levels. Currently, she is a board member for the Northern California Chapter of the Fulbright Alumni Association and teaches Spanish to private clients.
SINTAXIS
no tocarte es un silencio
en el discurso de tocarte
pero es una palabra
de la frase de estar mirándote
no mirarte es un silencio
en el discurso de mirarte
pero es una palabra
de la frase de estar pensándote
no pensarte es impensable
como una frase de silencios
interrumpidos por silencios
SYNTAX
not touching you is a silence
in the discourse of touching you
but is a word
in the phrase of looking at you
not looking at you is a silence
in the discourse of looking at you
but is a word
in the phrase of thinking of you
not thinking of you is unthinkable
like a phrase of silences
interrupted by silences
* * *
Susan Cohen’s third and recent full-length collection, Democracy of Fire, is dedicated to her immigrant grandparents and includes poems about learning the language they spoke (Yiddish) as well as about other journeys. A finalist for the Washington, Wilder, and Richard Snyder Prizes, Democracy of Fire was praised by Ellen Bass as a “wise and wonderful” vision of “our interconnectedness.” David St. John wrote: “Once again, Susan Cohen has shown herself to be one of the most compassionate recorders of our complicated times.” A former journalist and science writer, Cohen has won many honors, including the Rita Dove Award, Milton Kessler Memorial Poetry Prize, the 2021 Red Wheelbarrow Prize judged by Mark Doty and the Terrain 11th Annual Poetry Prize judged by Arthur Sze. Her poetry has been published in 32 Poems, Catamaran, Prairie Schooner, Southern Humanities Review, Southern Review, and Verse Daily. Her translations from Yiddish of Polish-born poet Rajzel Żychlińsky have appeared in Asymptote, Loch Raven Review, Los Angeles Review, and elsewhere. www.susancohen-writer.com
Yiddish Cento*
It is always about bread and death.
A person can forget everything but eating.
Better an egg today than an ox tomorrow.
Better one friend with a dish of food than a hundred with a sigh.
He who has not tasted the bitter does not understand the sweet.
All is not butter that comes from a cow.
Only in dreams are carrots as big as bears.
If you can’t endure the bad, you will not live to witness the good.
A man should stay alive if only out of curiosity.
He should laugh with the lizards.
Laughter is heard farther than weeping.
If you are fated to drown, you will drown in a spoonful of water.
Man begins in dust and ends in dust—
meanwhile, it’s good to drink some vodka.
Enjoy life—you can always commit suicide later.
If you’re going to eat pork, get it all over your beard.
*all the lines in this poem are Yiddish sayings