The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more.

'Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -

This it is, and nothing more.

'Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door;

-Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,

`Lenore!'This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -'

Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -

Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -

Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'

Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore

Of "Never-nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee

Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -

On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -

`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

-EAP, 1845-

La verdadera Independencia

El 15 de septiembre suele ser una fecha divertida para todo aquél que se jacte de ser mexicano. Fuegos artificiales (sí, pólvora y tequila hacen lo suyo), pozole, verdes blancos y rojos y una especie de hinchazón del corazón que me es difícil de explicar y de entender. Siendo honestos, el "Mexicanos al grito de guerra" me pone la piel chinita, hay fibras que no sabía sensibles que se mueven al unísono de una melodía bélica que no logro memorizar. Sin embargo, hay 2 cosas importantes, para efectos de la controversia: la independencia NO debería celebrarse el 15 de septiembre, pues esta fecha sólo marca el inicio de la guerra, siendo que la "libertad" (oh terrible utopìa!!) se consuma el 27 de septiembre de 1821; la segunda, y coincidiendo con Carreño et al, me cuestiono si es que realmente hay algo que celebrar (y no sòlo este año en particular, sino en general desde el Siglo XIX). En este post me ocupo sòlo de la primera.

Sin pretender dar clases de historia, y dejando claro que este capìtulo de la historia de Mèxico no es mi consentido (ni algo siquiera cercano a eso), menciono los 4 eventos post fusilamiento (y evidente muerte) de Hidalgo (jamàs gritò "Viva Mèxico", sino "Viva la Vìrgen de Guadalupe, viva Fernando VII, muera el mal gobierno", lamentando la desilusiòn que provoque el hecho de desmentirlo como independista de hueso colorado) que considero imprescindibles de menciòn para entender esta cronologìa: la Constituciòn de Apatzingàn (precedido por los Sentimientos de la Naciòn, del Siervo de la Naciòn), el Congreso de Chilpancingo (insipirado en ideales de la Revoluciòn Francesa y de las recientmente independizadas colonias norteamericanas), el Plan de Iguala (en donde el extraño Agustìn de Iturbide se cambia de bando, en un acto un tanto difìcil de comprender en esos dìas, normal en los nuestros, y en los que se convence que la libertad de la Amèrica mexicana es el camino a su emancipaciòn, por supuesto, tipificada con el noble gentilicio y tìtulo nobiliario de Emperador) y el Acta de Independencia del Imperio Mexicano, firmada por el mismo Iturbide, Juan de O'Donojù y Anastacio Bustamante, en su triuinfal entrada a la Ciudad de Mèxico el 27 de septiembre de 1821.

Si decidimos celebrar algo relacionado con la soberanìa adquirida (no estarìa mal el pasaporte comunitario en estos dìas!), que sea por una legìtima y verdadera razòn.

One of us cannot be wrong

Le tienes miedo al compromiso, temes perder la libertad vs. estoy contigo, no necesito un papel para saberme tuyo y saberte mía.
Pareja vs. proveedor.
Me hablaste en un tono espantoso, pudiste haberlo dicho con mucho más tacto vs. estás demasiado sensible, todo lo que te diga va a parecer agresivo (así hablo yo).
¿Por qué no me lo dices tal como es? vs. no quiero lastimarte (interpreta mi silencio).
Yo no puedo hablar tanto como tu vs. necesito que me digas lo que pasa y te comuniques conmigo.
Yo siento vs. yo pienso (vs. yo creo).
Yo no veo las cosas como tu vs. no se puede hablar en serio contigo.
Te conozco (desde siempre, desde lejos) vs. ¿tu qué sabes? (me conoces y sabes que no puedo mentir).
Me tienes en el olvido vs. necesito mi tiempo y mi espacio.
Ya tengo mi vida, no puedes llegar de la nada y desordenarlo todo de nuevo vs. eres la persona más cobarde, no tienes el valor para buscarme y decirme que me extrañas.
Tengo otras costumbres, necesito explicar cuál es el plan vs. no voy a darle explicaciones a nadie de lo que hago.
¿Por qué no puedes ser tu misma y dejas de usar sus palabras? vs. ella me conoce y quiere lo mejor para mí.
Te complicas demasiado la existencia vs. no puedo creer que no te cuestiones nunca nada y te resignes.
Tengo demasiado trabajo (y me encanta lo que hago!) vs. está de moda ser single, independiente y productivo (y me encanta lo que hago!).
Me quedé esperando tu llamada vs. tu celular estaba apagado (no quise marcarte vs. no quise contestarte).
Hace mucho no me tocas, necesito tiempo contigo vs. tu sólo piensas en sexo (ya no puedo con mi cansancio, ¿qué no podemos quedarnos dormidos juntos y ya?).
Perdón, en verdad no puedo con tus amigos (ya pasé por ahí, me dan toda la pereza) vs. sólo te interesa tu mundo (si me aceptas, mi mundo viene incluido).
¿Por qué no puedes escucharme un segundo? vs. me lo has repetido las suficientes veces, ya lo entendí, ¿a qué quieres llegar?
Necesito un tiempo en solitario vs. no he encontrado a nadie mejor que tú (y por eso tengo tiempo para y con mi soledad).
Te necesito porque te quiero vs. tienes miedo de quedarte sola.
El amor todo lo puede vs. el amor no es suficiente.
El grito desesperado, bajo la lluvia (quiero pelear) vs. la oscuridad de la puerta cerrada (no quiero pelear).
Tu fantasma vs. mi obsesión.

I lit a thin green candle to make you jealous of me, but the room just filled up with mosquitoes, they heard that my body was free.

Then I took the dust from a long & sleepless night and I put it in your little shoe. And then I confess that I tortured the dress that you wore for the world to look through.

I showed my heart to the doctor: he said I just have to quit. Then he wrote himself a prescription, and your name was mentioned in it.

Then he locked himself into a library shelf with the details of our honeymoon, and I hear from the nurse that he's gotten much worse and his practice is fallen to ruin.

I heard of a saint who had loved you, so I studied all night in his school. He taught that the duty of lovers is to tarnish the golden rule.

And just when I was sure that his teachings were pure he drowned himself in the pool.His body is gone but back here on the lawn his spirit continues to drool.

An Eskimo showed me a movie he'd recently taken of you; the poor man could hardly stop shivering, his lips and his fingers were blue.

I suppose that he froze when the wind took your clothes and I guess he just never got warm, but you stand there so nice, in your blizzard of ice, oh please let me come into the storm.

-LC-

Los Ídolos del Momento

Permítanme presentárselos. Son ellos los que hacen tanto ruido, últimamente, y desde un rato ya. Rumores aquí y allá, sin embargo el único certero, más que un secreto a voces, es lo bien que lo hacen. La espera parece llegar a su fin. Sensacionales es un adjetivo sumamente modesto. Desde la escena un tanto underground, con una letra pegajosa, neta, honesta. Vagancia y Elegancia, la vida como va! (Ellos no lo saben, pero trabajan en una conspiración junto al Cardenal, quien siempre desde lo oculto teje los hilos, trama y urdimbre de lo cotidiano, lo irreal). Son sólo 3. Bienvenidos Jules Idol, Carlos Idol & Jorch Idol. Ellos son los Ídolos del Momento.

(Particular atención a Matute, La Vida Como Va, Me Derrumbo y Cuando No Te Tengo. Personal favourites. Cuando no te tengo, tengo miedo, no te vayas, ¿quién me va a cuidar de mi?)

www.myspace.com/losidolosdelmomento