@AmmarAbdullh0 nos regala estas maravillosas imágenes del cielo estrellado de Siria,
que cubre como un manto su terrible desolación #Paz: image via Lucia Ballesteros @_luciacarolin, 31 December 2016
Jorge Luis Borges: Límites
De estas calles que ahondan el poniente,
una habrá (no sé cuál) que he recorrido
ya por última vez, indiferente
y sin adivinarlo, sometido
una habrá (no sé cuál) que he recorrido
ya por última vez, indiferente
y sin adivinarlo, sometido
a Quién prefija omnipotentes normas
y una secreta y rígida medida
a las sombras, los sueños y las formas
que destejen y tejen esta vida.
Si para todo hay término y hay tasa
y última vez y nunca más y olvido
¿quién nos dirá de quién, en esta casa,
sin saberlo, nos hemos despedido?
Tras el cristal ya gris la noche cesa
y del alto de libros que una trunca
sombra dilata por la vaga mesa,
alguno habrá que no leeremos nunca.
Hay en el Sur más de un portón gastado
con sus jarrones de mampostería
y tunas, que a mi paso está vedado
como si fuera una litografía.
Para siempre cerraste alguna puerta
y hay un espejo que te aguarda en vano;
la encrucijada te parece abierta
y la vigila, cuadrifronte, Jano.
Hay, entre todas tus memorias, una
que se ha perdido irreparablemente;
no te verán bajar a aquella fuente
ni el blanco sol ni la amarilla luna.
No volverá tu voz a lo que el persa
dijo en su lengua de aves y de rosas,
cuando al ocaso, ante la luz dispersa,
quieras decir inolvidables cosas.
¿Y el incesante Ródano y el lago,
todo ese ayer sobre el cual hoy me inclino?
Tan perdido estará como Cartago
que con fuego y con sal borró el latino.
Creo en el alba oír un atareado
rumor de multitudes que se alejan;
son lo que me ha querido y olvidado;
espacio y tiempo y Borges ya me dejan.
Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986): Límites, from El otro, el mismo, 1964; English version by Alastair Reid
The city of Idlib used to bustle with people before the Syrian war began in 2011, but now few residents venture outside their homes at night.: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
y una secreta y rígida medida
a las sombras, los sueños y las formas
que destejen y tejen esta vida.
Si para todo hay término y hay tasa
y última vez y nunca más y olvido
¿quién nos dirá de quién, en esta casa,
sin saberlo, nos hemos despedido?
Tras el cristal ya gris la noche cesa
y del alto de libros que una trunca
sombra dilata por la vaga mesa,
alguno habrá que no leeremos nunca.
Hay en el Sur más de un portón gastado
con sus jarrones de mampostería
y tunas, que a mi paso está vedado
como si fuera una litografía.
Para siempre cerraste alguna puerta
y hay un espejo que te aguarda en vano;
la encrucijada te parece abierta
y la vigila, cuadrifronte, Jano.
Hay, entre todas tus memorias, una
que se ha perdido irreparablemente;
no te verán bajar a aquella fuente
ni el blanco sol ni la amarilla luna.
No volverá tu voz a lo que el persa
dijo en su lengua de aves y de rosas,
cuando al ocaso, ante la luz dispersa,
quieras decir inolvidables cosas.
¿Y el incesante Ródano y el lago,
todo ese ayer sobre el cual hoy me inclino?
Tan perdido estará como Cartago
que con fuego y con sal borró el latino.
Creo en el alba oír un atareado
rumor de multitudes que se alejan;
son lo que me ha querido y olvidado;
espacio y tiempo y Borges ya me dejan.
Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986): Límites, from El otro, el mismo, 1964; English version by Alastair Reid
The city of Idlib used to bustle with people before the Syrian war began in 2011, but now few residents venture outside their homes at night.: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
Limits
Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset,
There must be one (which, I am not sure)
That I by now have walked for the last time
Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone
There must be one (which, I am not sure)
That I by now have walked for the last time
Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone
Who fixes in advance omnipotent laws,
Sets up a secret and unwavering scale
for all the shadows, dreams, and forms
Woven into the texture of this life.
Sets up a secret and unwavering scale
for all the shadows, dreams, and forms
Woven into the texture of this life.
If there is a limit to all things and a measure
And a last time and nothing more and forgetfulness,
Who will tell us to whom in this house
We without knowing it have said farewell?
And a last time and nothing more and forgetfulness,
Who will tell us to whom in this house
We without knowing it have said farewell?
Through the dawning window night withdraws
And among the stacked books which throw
Irregular shadows on the dim table,
There must be one which I will never read.
And among the stacked books which throw
Irregular shadows on the dim table,
There must be one which I will never read.
There is in the South more than one worn gate,
With its cement urns and planted cactus,
Which is already forbidden to my entry,
Inaccessible, as in a lithograph.
With its cement urns and planted cactus,
Which is already forbidden to my entry,
Inaccessible, as in a lithograph.
There is a door you have closed forever
And some mirror is expecting you in vain;
To you the crossroads seem wide open,
Yet watching you, four-faced, is a Janus.
And some mirror is expecting you in vain;
To you the crossroads seem wide open,
Yet watching you, four-faced, is a Janus.
There is among all your memories one
Which has now been lost beyond recall.
You will not be seen going down to that fountain
Neither by white sun nor by yellow moon.
Which has now been lost beyond recall.
You will not be seen going down to that fountain
Neither by white sun nor by yellow moon.
You will never recapture what the Persian
Said in his language woven with birds and roses,
When, in the sunset, before the light disperses,
You wish to give words to unforgettable things.
Said in his language woven with birds and roses,
When, in the sunset, before the light disperses,
You wish to give words to unforgettable things.
And the steadily flowing Rhone and the lake,
All that vast yesterday over which today I bend?
They will be as lost as Carthage,
Scourged by the Romans with fire and salt.
All that vast yesterday over which today I bend?
They will be as lost as Carthage,
Scourged by the Romans with fire and salt.
At dawn I seem to hear the turbulent
Murmur of crowds milling and fading away;
They are all I have been loved by, forgotten by;
Space, time, and Borges now are leaving me.
Murmur of crowds milling and fading away;
They are all I have been loved by, forgotten by;
Space, time, and Borges now are leaving me.
Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986): Límites, from El otro, el mismo, 1964; English version by Alastair Reid
@AmmarAbdullh0 nos regala estas maravillosas imágenes del cielo estrellado de Siria,
que cubre como un manto su terrible desolación #Paz: image via Lucia Ballesteros @_luciacarolin, 31 December 2016
Syrian and Russian warplanes and helicopters have carried out strikes for months against rebels in Idlib province: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
@AmmarAbdullh0 nos regala estas maravillosas imágenes del cielo estrellado de Siria,
que cubre como un manto su terrible desolación #Paz: image via Lucia Ballesteros @_luciacarolin, 31 December 2016
A damaged building stands in the town of Binnish, Idlib. The province has been under the control of Syrian rebels since February 2016.: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
The starry night in #Syria #Idlib @AmmarAbdullh0: image via NaTakallam @NaTakallam, 2 January 2017
A ferris wheel rises from the town of Maaret al-Numan in Idlib province, which is located in north-west Syria, bordering Turkey: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
A digger stands amid the rubble in the rebel-controlled town of Maaret al-Numan. Idlib is just 60km from Aleppo, and has been overwhelmed by Aleppans fleeing the city after more than 100 days of air strikes.: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
According to the Syrian Network for Human Rights monitoring group, Idlib province suffered 11 massacres (the killing of at least five civilians at once) in November. Aleppo suffered 16.: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
Beauty amidst the horror: The starry night in #Syria – beautiful photos by @AmmarAbdullh0: image via Joe English @JoeEEnglish, 31 December 2016
Aid agencies and human rights groups were concerned that the sieges and barrel bombs would follow Aleppans in Idlib. The UN envoy for Syria, Staffan de Mistura, warned Idlib could become 'the next Aleppo.': photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
@AmmarAbdullh0 nos regala estas maravillosas imágenes del cielo estrellado de Siria,
que cubre como un manto su terrible desolación #Paz: image via Lucia Ballesteros @_luciacarolin, 31 December 2016
A mosque stands in the city of Idlib: photo by Ammar Abdullah/Reuters, 31 December 2016
Ceasefire, Russian way. 1 day after @UN PR stunt, #Russian jets resume air strikes on schools and civilians across #Syria. "You cease, we fire.": image via Julian Röpcke Verified account @JulianRoepcke, 1 January 2017
Ceasefire, Russian way. 1 day after @UN PR stunt, #Russian jets resume air strikes on schools and civilians across #Syria. "You cease, we fire.": image via Julian Röpcke Verified account @JulianRoepcke, 1 January 2017
Into the mist
IRAQ - Members of Iraqi special forces Counter Terrorism Service clear a building a during an operation against IS in Mosul. By @ahmedafp: image via Frédérique Geffard @fgeffardAFP, 2 January 2017
IRAQ - Members of Iraqi special forces Counter Terrorism Service clear a building a during an operation against IS in Mosul. By @ahmedafp: image via Frédérique Geffard @fgeffardAFP, 2 January 2017
Iraqi forces detain a man suspected of belonging to the #IS group in the Al-Intisar area in eastern #Mosul. Photo Ahmad Al-Rubaye: image via AFP Photo Department @AFPphoto, 2 January 2017
#Germany Members of several Islamic religious communities pray in front of the Turkish embassy in Berlin #AFP Photo by @odd_andersen: image via AFP Photo Department @AFPphoto, 2 January 2017
Shell of billboard reads: “Like new, only stronger.” WAPO slideshow: Jewish #settlements in #WestBank @davidvaaknin: image via Reading The Pictures @ReadingThePix, 2 January 2017
The
Hollywood sign before repair crews completed their work after
pranksters change iconic Hollywood sign to 'Hollyweed' By @Robyn_Beck
#AFP: image via AFP Entertainment @AFPceleb, 2 January 2017
CHINA - A building appears through a thick layer of fog in Yangzhou, in eastern Jiangsu. By @AFPphoto: image via Frédérique Geffard @fgeffardAFP, 2 January 2017
Given face and hands, Shanxi province "Year of the Rooster" sculpture presages lot less crowing than cock fighting: image via Reading The Pictures @ReadingThePix, 2 January 2017
COLOMBIA
- FARC guerrilla fighters lay down their weapons to eat at the Alberto
Martinez Front 34 encampment in Vegaez. By @RAULARBOLEDA:
image via Frédérique Geffard @fgeffardAFP, 2 January 2017
#Colombia
#FARC guerrilla fighters at the Front 34 Alberto Martinez encampment in
Vegaez on January 1 2017. #AFP Photo by @RAULARBOLEDA: image via AFP Photo Department @AFPphoto, 2 January 2017
#Colombia
#FARC guerrilla fighters at the Front 34 Alberto Martinez encampment in
Vegaez on January 1 2017. #AFP Photo by @RAULARBOLEDA: image via AFP Photo Department @AFPphoto, 2 January 2017
#Colombia
#FARC guerrilla fighters at the Front 34 Alberto Martinez encampment in
Vegaez on January 1 2017. #AFP Photo by @RAULARBOLEDA: image via AFP Photo Department @AFPphoto, 2 January 2017
#Colombia #FARC guerrilla fighters at the Front 34 Alberto Martinez encampment in Vegaez on January 1 2017. #AFP Photo by @RAULARBOLEDA: image via AFP Photo Department @AFPphoto, 2 January 2017
THAILAND - Children paddling through a flooded neighbourhood after heavy rains in southern province of Narathiwat. By Madaree Tohlala #AFP: image via Frédérique Geffard @fgeffardAFP, 2 January 2017
INDIA - Kashmiri boatmen extract sand from river Jehlum on a foggy morning on the outskirts of Srinagar. By @TauseefMUSTAFA: image via Frédérique Geffard @fgeffardAFP, 2 January 2017
#Everton fans shield their eyes from the sun at Goodison Park during the match against #Southampton #efcsou @AFPphoto: image via Paul Ellis @ellophoto, 2 January 2017
7 comments:
El mejor poema de Borges "Límites" y el texto "del rigor de ciencia"
Yet another amazing post . . .
De estas calles que ahondan el poniente,
una habrá (no sé cuál) que he recorrido
ya por última vez, indiferente
y sin adivinarlo, sometido
interesante pensamiento de una certeza borrosa
Thanks Nin y gracias Sandra.
I think perhaps these divinations of departures and absences are not so uncommon among the old.
What is uncommon is the ability (and desire!) to make poetry of them.
Hail the grand poet Borges!
Our streets also are a blur of sombras and lluvia, lluvia, lluvia... but not quite so poetic as the old streets of Buenos Aires... particularly at rush hour.
This whole Borges series has me gasping.
Thanks, k. Me too, pretty much, though perhaps in a not so great way at the moment. We're afloat in an "atmospheric river" here, currently... I mean, there actually appear to be currents flowing through the puddles. Nutty cats want in, then out on rickety deck of sinking shack, to drown or blow off in tree bending gusts. They too like spent ancient doorman may need A Compass before it's all over.
But... when will it be all over?
I had known Borges's poetry. Thanks for the selection and ghostly images.
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