Leda García Pérez (Costa Rica)

Leda García Pérez (Costa Rica)
Leda García Pérez is Costa Rican and Spanish. She is writer, lawyer, communicator and actress, with a career in the cultural world since 1970. She was a member of the Estudiantina of the University of Costa Rica. As an actress, she participated in important theatrical works such as “Las nosgonas de Paso Ancho” and the high comedy “A perfect crime.” She is director and founder of the Literary Portal and the International Poetry Festival HOJAS SIN TIEMPO. She is creator of the PATH OF THE POETS on Tortuga Island, coordinator of the FIA LITERARIO in 2017 and 2018, co-founder of the Poiesis Literary Group, co-founder of ADECA (Central American Writers Association). She has published the poetry books With me in the nude, Voices of oblivion, Ineî Poems, Infidel Poems, Songs of stone and petal, Praise of custom, Sleepwalking Poems, Crazy Poems that are loose. Unpublished books: Naughty Poems, The night of the bodies. She has been participated in different anthologies in Europe, Latin America, Mexico and the United States. Her poems have been translated into Arabic, English, French, Bengali, Italian and Swedish. She is member of the Costa Rican Association of Writers (ACE). She is president of the House of the Peruvian Poet, Costa Rica section. She is the manager in Costa Rica of Prometeo de Poesía, (Spain).
Forcing me to die
to turn more moon
more earth
more woman
May the storm be my ego
merciless, flowerless
and I the miniature.
Having a lover without having one
quenching the thirst
until the end of existence
stealing auroras from the landscape
allowing intimidation by his swords
and his honeys
crossing the dimension of everything
because a poet is born dead
and is resurrected
when the poem requires his presence.
Unfinished crossword
sign of doubt in wanderings
where we are the foot
the stone
the temporal dust of the roads
nothingness amidst the end.
Life is transiting the wind rose
with the sea on your skin
and running loose in the undertow
while the eye awaits your return.
I lived all that I lack
the day after.
Life has to go on, they say,
even if sometimes we want to stop it,
stick it in a jar with an airtight lid
so that nothing comes out and toss it
into the deepest recesses of oblivion.
The bandit is still there
like a tree with nfathomable roots,
impossible to remove the mask.
Waiting time: 9 months.
Escape time: undetectable.
Return time: incomprehensible.
The end is neither near nor far, it just is…
Translations by Marie Pfaff

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