Blow to me
a song simple and lasting
a song incorruptible
a song untouched
a song
unsuccumbing before the unstoppable passing of all things
–famo ñi lawen mo–
A song sprouting from the milk of Mapunzugun
that’s what I would like
if I were born again
the Küpalme milk
the llanka lawen milk
the feñfeñko milk
the contra lawen milk
the knife milk
the winkül milk
the milk of all things
the thirst of breath for naming
dreamed-of greed
uprooted
from the throat with whip and alfitxa
only the milk that sweetens the poison
of all the tears
of all the shames of all the scorns
that chesungun milk
chacay latue chaura milk
kuñifal milk
Mapunzugun
midwife
of a thousand knots of battles never lost
if that warm milk
thread by thread
possessed me
nursed me one day
if you came back to ask if I would be born again in Mapunzugun
if you came back
Could I spin the nest where the birds go to light the fire?
Could I knead the mud where the black mint smells of the firstborn?
Would I be sated ñi Wünelfe?
You tell me
May not only the tongue speak Mapunzugun
may the body be Mapunzugun
may the feet be Mapunzugun
may the sweat be Mapunzugun
may your bones be Mapunzugun
may your pewma dream Mapunzugun
May the wild dance of the days
be Mapunzugun
the bittersweet matter that dances in all beings
be Mapunzugun
may the gasping
the vomit
the useless, smug sarcasm of the centuries
become Mapunzugun
those dark, cold slopes that pant like wounded snakes
when night falls
the memory of secret transgression and fragrant delirium
Mapunzugun pounding
raw
like
the burning
heart of a ram
thrashing in the tender desperation of surrender
From the unpublished book Cantos de amor al lucero de la mañana [Love songs to the morning star]
Curated and selected by Paula Miranda and Andrea Vargas
Translated by Arthur Dixon
