With the same fury of spring (published by Vision Books) is the reissue of Alberto Lauro, poet and writer of the Cuban diaspora. After almost 25 years appears the second edition of the book with the same splendor from when it was conceived.
With the same fury of spring includes poems of exquisitely shocking. I staggered enchant his verses, reading was as musically down a cliff of metaphors and images and indelible. The poems and music of Alberto Lauro pierce my ear like the echo resonance. Good poetry
updates the circumstances and in this regard I am pleased to present the first fruits of his poems.
OUTLINE FOR MINIATURE FIGURINE Sholem
ALIECHEN
(On the death of Chagall)
You
you open your hands trying desperately to say goodbye
,
stuck with the agony of the dying
the only tree that floats on the sea is already
night. You
you close your hands, not wanting to be
reprobate clapping with pleasure
the
abominable lust scene between the king's daughter and a bartender,
know that in those fingers
all roads end, silent footsteps
where so often wanted to read
indecipherable fires of the future.
These hands know the rough skin of the walls, the cold
that part
bus in the morning, without passengers or dismissed;
keep the dream of dark dark seedy hotels and inns
when you knew an unpredictable event
with happiness.
Those hands have caressed the glass of red wine
as the size of a tropical chorus
(always with the hope of finding
in every gesture the end
and passion of a completed act.)
Those hands have asked alms of love, and now back
sink to the bottom of the pockets of someone who wears
a ragged coat with blue scarf
-very kind, very gentle-
but faceless.
Alberto Lauro
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