| | | | Daisy Zamora is the author of five widely read books of poetry in Spanish, most recently Tierra de Nadie, Tierra de Todos (No-Mans Land, Everybodys Land), 2007. She also edited the first anthology of Nicaraguan women poets, a book about concepts of cultural politics during the Sandinista Revolution, and an anthology of the poetry workshops from the Latin American and Latino Studies Department at UCSC. In 2007, she translated into Spanish a collection of George Evans poems, Espejo de la Tierra. Daisy Zamora was awarded Nicaraguas National Poetry Prize, Mariano Fiallos Gil, in 1977, and in 2002 received the Nicaraguan Writers Center Literary Acknowledgement for valuable contributions to Nicaraguan literature, as well as a California Arts Council Fellowship for poetry. In 2006, she was honored as Writer of the Year by the National Association of Artists in Nicaragua. She lives in Managua and San Francisco. A combatant in the National Sandinista Liberation Front, she was the program director and voice of the clandestine Radio Sandino, and became Vice-Minister of Culture after the triumph of the revolution. Throughout her life, she has been a well-known political activist and advocate for womens rights. Her poems, essays, articles and translations have been published in magazines and literary newspapers throughout Latin America, the Caribbean, the U.S., Canada, Europe and Australia, and her poems have appeared in more than fifty anthologies in Spanish, English, French, German, Swedish, Italian, Bulgarian, Russian, Vietnamese, Chinese, Dutch, Flemish, Slovak and Czech. English translations of her work include The Violent Foam (Curbstone, 2002), Life for Each (Katabasis [U.K.], 1994), Clean Slate (Curbstone, 1993), and Riverbed of Memory (City Lights, 1992). She has given poetry readings and lectures throughout the world, and was a featured artist in Bill Moyers PBS series The Language of Life. | Celebration of the Body | Spanish | English | | | | | | Spanish version Celebración del cuerpo Amo este cuerpo mío que ha vivido la vida, su contorno de ánfora, su suavidad de agua, el borbotón de cabellos que corona mi cráneo, la copa de cristal del rostro, su delicada base que asciende pulcra desde hombros y clavículas. Amo mi espalda pringada de luceros apagados, mis colinas translúcidas, manantiales del pecho que dan el primer sustento de la especie. Salientes del costillar, móvil cintura, vasija colmada y tibia de mi vientre. Amo la curva lunar de mis caderas modeladas por alternas gestaciones, la vasta redondez de ola de mis glúteos; y mis piernas y pies, cimiento y sostén del templo. Amo el puñado de pétalos oscuros, el oculto vellón que guarda el misterioso umbral del paraíso, la húmeda oquedad donde la sangre fluye y brota el agua viva. Este cuerpo mío doliente que se enferma que supura, que tose, que transpira, secreta humores y heces y saliva, y se fatiga, se agota, se marchita. Cuerpo vivo, eslabón que asegura la cadena infinita de cuerpos sucesivos. Amo este cuerpo hecho con el lodo más puro: semilla, raíz, savia, flor y fruto. English version Celebration of the Body I love this body of mine that has lived a life, its amphora contour soft as water, my hair gushing out of my skull, my face a glass goblet on its delicate stem rising with grace from shoulders and collarbone. I love my back studded with ancient stars, the bright mounds of my breasts, fountains of milk, our species first food, my protruding ribcage, my yielding waist, my bellys fullness and warmth. I love the lunar curve of my hips shaped by various pregnancies, the great curling wave of my buttocks, my legs and feet, on which the temple stands. I love my bunch of dark petals and secret fur keeper of heavens mysterious gate, to the damp hollow from which blood flows and the water of life. This body of mine that can hurt and get ill, that oozes, coughs, sweats, secretes humours, faeces, saliva, grows tired, old and worn out. Living body, one solid link to secure the unending chain of bodies. I love this body made of pure earth, seed, root, sap, flower and fruit. | Beach Girls | Spanish | English | | | | | | Spanish version Marina Las muchachas bocas demasiado rojas, ojos presos en círculos demasiado negros. Oscuras ellas como anguilas contrastan violentamente con sus trajes de baño. Andan de week-end con unos viejos funcionarios internacionales que beben whisky y pagan su compañía con ropas y baratijas. Ellos generosamente las obsequian con su más tierna halitosis y sus impotentes taquicardias. Cardumen de sirenas o sardinas lanzan las olas: guirnaldas y espuma. Y brincan brincando mejor en la playa ardiente que en las camas otoñales. English version Beach Girls The girls with mouths too red, and eyeliner too black. They are brown as eels contrasting sharply with their swimsuits. They are weekending with some elderly international businessmen who drink whisky and pay for their company with clothes and trinkets. Generously presented with their tenderest halitosis and impotent tachycardias. Shoal of mermaids or sardines tossed on the waves: wreaths and foam. And they gambol better on the burning sand than in the autumnal beds. | News in the Supermarket | Spanish | English | | | | | | Spanish version Noticia en el supermercado Entre las verduras oigo sus discusiones: Hablan del supervisor, reniegan de los turnos, de si la fulanita no llegó a tiempo, del mísero sueldo que para nada alcanza. Hoy temprano hubo un accidente en la carretera frente a mi casa. Acababa de bajarse del bus una muchacha y una camioneta la mató cuando intentaba cruzarse al otro lado. Un gentío rodeaba su cadáver y algunos comentaban conmovidos que no parecía tener más de dieciocho años. De repente cesa la habladera. Alguien dio la noticia que se regó como un temblor oscuro y sordo por el supermercado. ¿Cómo decirle a doña Mariana que su única hija que tanto le costó, que apenas iba a matricularse en la universidad, y se despidió tan contenta esta mañana, yace en media carretera con el cráneo destrozado mientras ella despacha muy amable la carne a los clientes? English version News in the Supermarket I hear them gossiping among the vegetables: they are talking about their supervisor, grumbling about their shifts, so and so was late and their rotten wages that dont go anywhere. Early this morning there was an accident on the road in front of my house. A girl stepped off the bus and a lorry killed her as she was trying to cross to the other side. A crowd gathered round her body and some remarked painfully that she seemed no more than eighteen. Suddenly the gossip stops. Someone has brought the news which runs through the supermarket like a muffled tremor. How to tell Doña Mariana that her only daughter for whom she has struggled so hard, who was just about to start at university, who was so happy when she said goodbye that morning, is lying in the middle of the road with a smashed skull while she is amiably serving customers with meat. | Vision of your Body | Spanish | English | | | | | | Spanish version Visión de tu cuerpo En la habitación apenas iluminada tuve una dicha fugaz: la visión de tu cuerpo desnudo como un dios yaciente. Eso fue todo. Indiferente te levantaste a buscar tus ropas con naturalidad mientras yo temblaba estremecida como la tierra cuando la parte el rayo. English version Vision of your Body In the dimly lit room I had a brief glimpse of bliss: sight of your naked body like a god reclining. That was all. Quite unaware you got up to get your clothes just naturally while I shuddered like the earth split open by lightning. | | | | | |