Jenny Asse Chayo — Poeta judío-mexicana/ Mexican-Jewish poet — Poemas de la escritura y lo escrito/ Poems of Writing and the Written

jenny
Jenny Asse Chayo

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Jenny Asse Chayo es licenciada en literatura latinoamericana

de la Universidad Iberoamericana en Ciudad México. Estudió filosofía

judía en la Universidad Hebrea de Jerusalem. Ha publicado los libros de

poesía: Busco en mi carne el nombre (1997), Es sed de morir el paraíso

(2005),  El tránsito de la Luz (2007), Escarabajo (2102) and Leer el infinito (2016).

Es coordinadora cultural de las librerías El Péndulo en Ciudad México.

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Jenny Asse Chayo has a degree in Latin American Literature

from the Universidad Iberoamericana in Mexico City. She studied Jewish

philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. She has published the

collections or poetry: Busco en mi carne el nombre (1997), Es sed de

morir el paraíso (2005), and El tránsito de la Luz (2007), El tránsito de la

Luz (2007), Escarabajo (2102) and Leer el infinito (2016).. She is the cultural

coordinator for the El Péndulo chain of bookstores in Mexico City.

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Jenny Asse Chayo — Poemas de la escritura y lo escrito/ Poems of Writing and the Written

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Tiemblo ante la vastedad de lo posible,

cada libro se va alumbrando a sí mismo

En el trazo de lo perpetuo.

Pugnan las palabras en el vientre creador.

Cada palabra escrita vence a otra palabra.

Las palabras luchan entre sí para aparecer sobre la página,

ésa es su vanidad.

–No quiero renunciar a ninguna posibilidad del decir.

–Mil mundos fueron destruidos antes de que éste pudiera

existir.

Dios mismo tuvo que elegir entre posibilidades infinitas.

–¿Habrá Él renunciado a crear un mejor mundo?

–Muchos mundos palpitaban en Su interior y eligió uno.

Así nosotros, a imagen y semejanza.

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I tremble before the immensity of the possible.

Every book goes along illuminated by itself

In the track of the perpetual.

Words fight in the creating womb.

Each written word defeats another word.

Words fight among themselves to appear on the page,

that is their vanity.

“I don’t want to give up any possibility of speaking.”

“A thousand worlds were destroyed before this one could

exist.”

God himself had to choose among infinite possibilities.

“Shall he refuse to create a better world?”

“Many worlds throb in His interior, and he chose one.

And so, here we are, image and likeness.”

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The book can only be written around the Book.

Everything was created from time out of memory,

we have inherited the responsibility to give names.

“I prefer to keep quiet.”

“If you keep quiet, things stay in their savage state,

there will be nothing to hold them in.

The Adamic word contained the essence of things.”

“Adam, by naming, found imperfection.”

 

The imperfection of sharing the named,

scarcity of the other,

the gap is always love.

 

“God will provide.”

He weaves an invisible thread into our names.

He narrates the story having lost his voice.

He hides behind His Book, throbbing.

 

To read is to be broken into pieces.

To interpret the meaning of the Infinite.

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La escritura es comentario, abre en círculos concéntricos

las posibilidades de lo preescrito.

El alma es pretexto; cualquier cosa da lugar a la escritura y,

a la vez, escribimos junto al vacío; él dicta, arroba, grita,

distiende, calla.

La hoja en blanco es el abismo, el hueco que genera la

palabra en confluencia con el hueco interno.

 

Tejo las auroras de los que han tenido que callar,

mis labios paren la luz en el sitio de la hoguera.

 

Ardiente el día en que nos mataron.

Los días en que amordazaron las almas de los niños

y silenciaron el balbuceo de los ancianos.

Escribir es un acto de justicia.

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Writing is commentary, it opens in concentric circles

the possibilities of the pre-written.

The soul is pretext; anything makes room for writing, and,

at the same time, we write alongside emptiness; it dictates, enthralls, cries out,

stretches, goes quiet.

The blank page is the abyss, the hollow that generates the

word in convergence with internal space.

 

I weave the dawns of those who have had to be quiet,

my lips give birth to light where the fire burns.

 

The day they killed us is in flames.

The days they gagged the souls of the children

and silenced the babbling of the old.

Writing is an act of justice.

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the-red-sea
El mar rojo/The Red Sea

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Mi pueblo anduvo en círculos la travesía de los desiertos.

Emergieron del mar profundo renovados,

del útero acuoso nacieron libres.

El calor del desierto derritió las cadenas que llevaban en el

alma, sus ojos se abrieron y pudieron leer la Voz de Dios.

 

Nos revelamos, sólo la escritura pone márgenes al abismo.

 

Peco y me redimo, tierra y sangre,

Caigo en el grito de polvo y me elevo con un canto.

 

El hombre es la conexión entre los mundos, la escala por

donde baja la luz y oscuridad. En la cubre de los cielos

el creador irradia los Ecos del Esplendor, el hombre es

recipiente: purificado, recibe los efluvios de la Luz.

 

Moíses, puente, canal de la sabiduría divina.

–¿Cuál era la cualidad de Moíses?

–La humildad.

–¿Qué es la humildad?

–Reconocer la nada que somos ante el Absoluto.

 

La nada frente a la Nada, el yo frente al Yo, la luz frente a la Luz.

Dimensionarnos frente al Eterno.

Esculpir el Rostro invisible de la inmensidad y volcar hacia

Él nuestra mirada.

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My people walked in circles across the wilderness.

Renewed, they emerged from the deep sea,

born free out of the watery womb.

The desert heat melted the chains they wore in  their

souls, their eyes opened, and they could read the Voice of God.

 

We reveal ourselves, only writing puts margins to the abyss.

 

I sin, and I redeem myself, earth and blood.

I fall into the shout of dust and rise with a song.

 

Man is the connection between worlds, the ladder

by which light and dark descend. In the high places of heaven

the Creator radiates Echoes of Splendor, man is

the vessel, purified, he receives the outpourings of light.

 

Moses, bridge, channel of divine wisdom.

“What quality did Moses have?”

“Humility.”

“What is humility?”

“Recognition of nothingness before the Absolute.”

Nothing facing Nothingness, I facing the light facing Light.

We measure ourselves before the Eternal.

To sculpt the invisible Countenance of immensity and show him our face.

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All translations by Stephen A. Sadow and J.Kates.

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Poemas de/Poems from:

Jenny Asse Chayo. Leer el infinito. México, D.F.: Praxis, 2016

Para compra el libro

Para comprar otros libros de Jenny Asse Chayo

Poemas tempranos/early poems

 

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