KLIMTA

A ROOM OF MY OWN

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

TONI MORRISON


Breath
La escritora Toni Morrison ha visitado la Universidad de Guadalajara para enseñarnos su experiencia como mujer, negra y afroamericana. Conozco algunas de sus obras pero por referencias sé que la mayoría de ellas denuncia la doble, triple, etc marginación y dolor que sufren estas mujeres. No sólo se centra en la mujer sino que denuncia todo tipo de discriminación, marginación, explotación y pobreza derivadas de esta masiva globalización a la que estamos sometidos. Quisiera destacar un minúsculo pedacito de su obra Beloved, que trata el tema de la esclavitud. Tema que, como muy bien dice Toni Morrison, la memoria y la culpa han querido borrarlo como un estigma vergonzoso de la historia de los que permitieron tamaña ignominia, tanto sufrimiento, tanto dolor.

"The future was sunset; the past something to leave behind. And if it didn't stay behind, well, you might have to stomp it out. Slave life; freed life-every day was a test and a trial. Nothing could be counted on in a world where even when you were a solution you were a problem" Beloved by Toni Morrison

Sunday, November 27, 2005

A PRESENT


Magritte

Hoy dejo un poema para mi querido Rythmduel, espero que te guste y disfrutes con él. Ya sabes por qué te dejo este poema, sé que este fin de semana toca "concentración". Espero que te guste tanto como a mí este poema, y la poesía en general de Maya Angelou. Mi primer post en este blog fue otro poema suyo que llevo como bandera "Still I rise". Disfrútalo ...........
Una vez más, me he posado en tu ventana.

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou


A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays
and dares to claim the sky.


But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are
tied so he opens his throat to sing.


The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.


The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the
sighing trees and the fat worms
waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and
he names the sky his own.


But a caged bird stands on the
grave of dreams his shadow shouts
on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are
tied so he opens his throat to sing.


The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.