Three Poems by Eliud Delgado

Those Things Staying Left

You wander the rooms, the empty house 

tainting with verses 

howl-chiseled on the walls. 

Wordly cluster, it isn’t late 

13ager’s angst 

what rage-loads your voice after another 10 years

but the disenchantment, brought by their passing,

that stuffs with melancholy 

the hollow which daily grows as every 

heard speech gets you disappointed. 

Among all of those things staying left, you find 

lighthouses, which your childish hand used to build,

            and remembrance under new light as

            you wander the rooms, the empty house.

Coffee & TV 

(see Blur)

Tell me you also have seen too much tv.

Tell me you’re getting blind, just like me, 

And all nerve cells-dead virtually.   

Tell me you don’t wanna face the abysses, neither I, 

so you would rather spend a whole Sunday tv-watching, 

and bringing me a coffee to drink in bed, instead,   

while we cast our minds away, 

floating adrift on cathode’s rays.

Sounds Like a Detuned Song

              at midnight,

                        it’s an echo in memory;

                        the jigsaw of ours

                        and it’s messed up fragments.

            Two melodies

                        fit your image

                        as it’s obstinately evoked

                        by voices in the breeze

            and whispers

                        repeating your name

                        from crushing leaves

            under my steps, 

so weary of searching 

for pieces we lost. 

(trans. by Eliud Delgado)

Eliud Delgado (Mexico City, 1984) is part of Devrayativa. He studies English Literature at UNAM. His poems have been published in magazines such as Punto en línea and Literal. Just as "What a Cat's Life" by Iván Ortega-López, these poems were translated by their own authors.