ELISE COWEN [8892]

Elise Cowen

Nada Elise Cowen (febrero 27,1933 hasta febrero 1,1962, Washington Heights,(Manhattan) fue una poeta que formó parte de la generación Beat, y muy cercana de Allen Ginsberg, una de las figuras más importantes del movimiento.

Nacida en una familia de clase media judía en Washington Heights, Nueva York, Cowen escribió poesía desde muy joven, influenciada por la obra de Emily Dickinson, TS Eliot, Ezra Pound, y Dylan Thomas.

Allen Ginsberg y Elise Cowen

Traducción de José Vicente Anaya

Sentada

Sentada contigo en la cocina

conversamos de todo

y te amo bebiendo té.

“Eso” es la palabra perfecta,

regia y hermosa. ¡Oh,

cuánto deseo, aquí mismo, tu cuerpo,

con o sin poemas lengüetados!

Emily…

Emily es la bruja blanca de Amherst.

           Es la tímida bruja blanca de Amherst

           que con amor mató a sus

                                    maestros.

            Pero yo prefiero sepultar a mi mente;

                                             o mejor,

             a esa suave paloma gris.

Quién me dará…

¿Quién me dará la

           nalgada cuando

vuelva a nacer?

¿Quién cerrará mis

           ojos cuando

a la hora de mi muerte

me vea?

La dama…

La dama es una cosa sumisa

hecha de agua y muerte.

La moda la viste con sobriedad y

usa su mente para coserle la bastilla.

The Lady...

The Lady is a humble thing

Made of death and water

The fashion is to dress it plain

And use the mind for border

EMILY...

Emily white witch of Amherst

The shy white witch of Amherst

Killed her teachers

With her love

I'll rather mine entomb

my mind

Or best that soft grey dove.

TEACHER--YOUR BODY MY KABBALAH...

Teacher--your body my Kabbalah

Rahamim--Compassion

Tiferete--Beauty

The aroma of Mr. Rochesters cigars

among the flowers

  Bursting through

  I am trying to choke you

  Delicate thought

  Posed

  Frankenstein of delicate grace

posed by my fear

  And you

  Graciously

  Take me by the throat

The body hungers before the soul

  And after thrusts for its own memory

Why not afraid to hurt elig--

couldn't hurt me except in wit, in funny

I couldn't, wouldn't art in relation

but with a rose or rather skunk cabbage

Just--Mere come I break through grey paper

room

Your

    Frankenstein

What is the word from Deberoux Babtiste

the Funambule I

Desnuelu (who's he?) to choke you

Duhamel and you

De brouille Graciously

Deberaux Take me by the throat

Decraux

Barrault

Deberaux

Delicate

French logic

Black daisy chain of nuns

Nous sommes tous assasins

Keith's jumping old man in the waves

methadrine

morning dance of delicacy

"I want you to pick me up

when I fall down"

I wouldn't and fell

not even death

I waited for 

stinking

with the room

like cat shit

would take me

Donald's first bed wherein this fantasy

shame changing him to you

And you talking of plum blossom scrolls

and green automobiles

Shame making body thought

a game

Cat's cradle & imaginary

    lattices of knowledge & Bach

system

Fearing making guilt making shame

making fantasy & logic & game &

elegance of covering splendour

emptying memory of the event

covering splendour with mere elegance

covering

sneer between the angels

Wouldn't couldn't

Fear of the killer

   dwarf with the bag of tricks & colonels picture

To do my killing for me

God is hidden

And not for picture postcards.

No love

No compassion

No intelligence

No beauty

No humility

Twenty-seven years is enough

Mother--too late--years of meanness--I'm sorry

Daddy--What happened?

Allen--I'm sorry

Peter--Holy Rose Youth

Berry--Such womanly bravery

Keith--Thank you

Joyce--So girl beautiful

Howard--Baby take care

Leo--open the windows and Shalom

Carol--Let it happen

Let me out now please--

--Please let me in