La memoria está en la yema de los dedos Los colores están en los ojos La infancia está contenida en la columna vertebral Los mundos nacen en cascarones rotos Siempre habrá un signo en todo objeto Una señal desdibujada en el horizonte Un presagio de infinito en la noche Un destello suspendido en la frente Un viejo olor bajo los guijarros Un sol rojo detrás de las colinas Amaneceres en los parpados Globos flotando en el cielo Aldeas insospechadas en la planta de los pies Anémonas gigantes en las nubes Seres que caminan de cabeza Soles como pupilas Buzos ahogados en un vaso de agua Náufragos de la desesperación Locomotoras exhalando un enjambre de moscas Ãrboles que entienden lo que decimos Un reloj con brazos y piernas Una torre sumergida en un charco Ojos llorando aves Sueños que conducen sus autos en la noche Balsas que atraviesan las arterias dejando una estela de estrellas Canciones buscando la luz Cielos tensos como codos y brazos Ciudades edificadas en mi mano izquierda Soles entre los dedos Mareas de oÃdos sordos Pedazos de playas en la retina Insectos acuáticos Mapas de lugares remotos como las galaxias Discusiones sobre asuntos que pronto olvidaremos Islas que son sonidos nidos Impresiones de todo lo soñado visto olido escuchado presentido sentido de gustado olvidado…Â
Impressions
Memory is in the fingertips
Colors are in the eyes
Infancy is contained in the backbone
Worlds are born in broken shells
There will always be a sign in every object
made vague in the horizon
An infinite omen in the night
A sparkle suspended on the forehead
An old smell beneath the pebbles
A red sun behind the hills
Sunrises on the eyelids
Balloons floating in the sky
Villages unsuspected in the soles of feet
Giant anemones in the clouds
Beings that walk on their heads
Suns like pupils
Divers drowned in a glass of water
Shipwrecks of desperation
Locomotives exhaling a swarm of flies
Trees that understand what we say
A clock with arms and legs
A tower submerged in a puddle
Eyes crying birds
Dreams that drive their cars in the night
Rafts that navigate the arteries leaving a trail of stars
Songs searching for the light
Skies tense like elbows and arms
Cities built in my left hand
Suns between fingers
Tides of deaf ears
Pieces of beaches in the retina
Aquatic insects
Maps of remote places like galaxies
Discussions over matters that we will soon forget
Islands that are nests of sounds
Impressions of everything dreamed
seen
smelled
heard
sensed
felt
liked
forgotten…
Rafael Ayala Páez was born in Zaraza, Guárico, Venezuela in 1988. He studied at the Universidad Nacional Experimental Simón RodrÃguez (UNESR), and was a founding member of the Municipal Writers Network of Zaraza.
His collections include Bocados de silencio and The lightness of matter (both 2012), and his work was featured in The Blue Hour Anthology – A collection of poetry, prose and art (2013).
 His poems have been translated into English, German, French, and Hebrew.
Roger Hickin (b. 1951) is a New Zealand poet, visual artist, book designer, and publisher.Â
Although he has written poetry since the 1960s, his main preoccupation was with sculpture and painting until the early 2000s when poetry began to demand more serious attention. His artworks have often incorporated poetry and his involvement with the visual arts has given rise to a number of poems about art and artists. His Waiting for the Transport (Kilmog Press, Dunedin) and The Situation & other poems (the initial Cold Hub Press chapbook) both appeared in 2009.
Roger is the director of Cold Hub Press which publishes poetry in several languages, including bilingual chapbooks of poems by two Chilean poets: Juan Cameron (with translations by the celebrated US translator Cola Franzen) and Sergio Badilla Castillo (with translations by Roger Hickin and the author).
You can read an interview between Rafael Ayala Páez and Roger Hickin, in English and Spanish, here.
Featured artwork: La visión de Daniel, by Gabriela Nuñez
