Nidia Hernández Surreal-Absurd Sampler

“When Thomas Helm asked me for a few lines about the Surreal-Absurd in my poems, I thought of Patricia Guzman World Literature Today's generous review of my book: “Many of the poems in The Farewell Light have a surrealist quality. The narrative in “A blind spot” centers on a dream in which the speaker is visited by her mother. Through surreal imagery that engages all senses (“[horses] were molding the sound of the wind”), the poem artfully captures the experience of dreaming about a lost loved one. We witness how the loss is renewed when her consciousness disrupts the suspension of disbelief afforded by the dream. Halfway through the poem, she begins to shift to reality, to a realization that her mother’s visit is actually a departure: “I knew we wouldn’t see each other again.” The central theme of water again becomes a vehicle for grief.”

I must confess that I felt very flattered and fortunate that someone could see surreal images in my verses, because poetry is often a surreal vision of what we call reality. Sometimes the poet doesn't know what to do with reality. They try to keep it at a distance, put it in perspective, turn it around, avoid it or mutate it, all the while searching for answers or questions in its invisible side.

I don't deliberately write, nor do I consider myself a surrealist, but I know that reality, surrealism, and the absurd are brothers, great friends who talk and exchange opinions. I hope to see them more often.

These poems are from The Farewell Light, translated from Spanish by Rowena Hill.”

— Nidia Hernández

A blind spot

I dreamed it was raining
it was night

I dreamed of horses
galloping
they were molding
the sound of the wind

Everything was fleeing
the air was bearing
on its shoulders
the weight of a flight

What is eternity
in a dream?

Was someone crying?

Had my mother
come to visit me
or to say goodbye?

she arrived suddenly
and time lost its order
her little old face
moved me,
in her eyes
a light like honey
was trying to say something,
her hair had disappeared
like the horizon
in a desert,
her pupils determined
a blind spot

I knew we wouldn't see each other again

she said
'Ah, my daughter'
she touched my face and lay down

the clothes she was wearing
belonged to my grandmother Carmen

I sat down on the floor
like when I was a child
and she was tidying
my tangled hair

I wanted to smile

but I cried
because I didn't have her
because of my silence

I cried until I was water
until I was sea
and I began to swim
toward the depths
to blend
with the stones' light
and disappear

and then
I saw a map of turtles
tiny, blue
were they dots of light?
were they looking for
the place where they belonged?
and I woke with the murmur
of another rain

It was Neptune
appearing to me
and I begged him -
‘stay with me
you are the sea

Delay

Among the trees in a wood
a landscape passed

it was time
distracted time
opening up a way

seeking the short cut of silence
speaking of delays

feeling lost
trying to go into the sea

Home

A clock pointed
toward the place
where an incandescent ring
touched the shadows

it was my room
floating in the night

my room
defending me from myself

my dark room
where I hide
the pyramids I dream

it was the space of a second
to be everywhere

to reach you

to touch you

to hear your voice

it was unreality
my true room

immense unreality

my only home

Secret

Who can stare
at a star
from nightfall
until dawn
without glancing aside
so as not to see
all that's gone?

A squirrel in the tree
diligently extracts a fruit

a motionless owl
plans what happened centuries ago

the moon hangs her reflection
from the sky

Who can by just wishing
dwell in this secret chamber?

The moon sunk in the lake
flickers that equation

Myopia

I thought I was walking
slowly
in reality I was floating

I wanted to settle
but I couldn’t

I was on the sea bottom
the current
was carrying me to its caves

in the curve of the water
I was looking at time
I was touching it

I swam a mile of water
as buoyant
as turtles
and magnetized
like they are
to return to their places

I put to use my myopia

I concentrated
on the sponges,
on the algae,
on my inner jellyfish
and I was able to join with
my own lostness

Now
I know how to handle
the light that escapes
the densest sun