Mariela Cordero (Venezuela)

 
Mariela Cordero (Venezuela)
 
Mariela Cordero Valencia, Venezuela (1985) is a lawyer, poet, writer, translator and visual artist. Her poetry has been published in several international anthologies and she has received some distinctions among them: Third Prize of Poetry Alejandra Pizarnik Argentina (2014). First Prize in the II Iberoamerican Poetry Contest Euler Granda, Ecuador (2015) Second Prize for Poetry, Concorso Letterario Internazionale Bilingüe Tracceperlameta Edizioni, Italy (2015). First Place in International Poetry Contest #AniversarioPoetasHispanos mentioning literary quality,Spain (2016)She is the author of the book of poems El cuerpo de la duda Ediciones Publicarte Caracas, Venezuela (2013) and Transfigurar es un país que amas, Editorial Dos Islas Miami, Estados Unidos (2020) Her poems have been translated into Hindi, Czech, Serbian, Shona, Uzbek, Romanian, Macedonian, Bengali, English, Arabic, Chinese,Hebrew Russian and Polish. She currently coordinates the sections #PoesíaVenezolana and #PoetasdelMundo in the Revista Abierta de Poesía Poémame (Spain).
 
 
Name
 
There is a name that I drink
Half solar alcohol, half secret water
 
There’s a name that I scream
Mixed in the bustle of the others
 
There is a name that I caress
Piece of forest
Warm and persistent
 
There is a name
River, sweet arrow and sweat.
 
A name
                             that devours
my name.
 
 
 
A dream for the summer
 
In your hand will dance an unexpected map,
invented to find fountains and water accidents
in the avenues of this city that is melting.
The dawn will know how to hide its dew
when our thirst turns violent.
The night will lie hesitantly on the grass.
Our only instinct will be to seek under the skirts of the earth
and kiss it until the center of its humidity.
This season will blossom as a prelude to fire.
Summer will be the liberation of the ardor that always strikes us within.
The unprecedented dance that will go out to heat the street and the bodies.
 
 
 
Love the shadow
 
Invasions of light are usually corrosive
to what lives in the shadows.
It is easy to love the dark,
the coldness with the smell of torrid vegetation.
 
Peace and danger amalgamated
in the mouth of the inviolable black horizon.
Swim forever in an ocean woven of gloom,
protected only by the irregular flapping
of birds dressed like the night.
 
Without hurtful illuminations the meaning can be spilled,
you can embrace languid hopes
and caress the symptoms of a rainy and exquisite love.
 
In the shadow we are all dark stars.
 
 
 

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