A few tears of bile

Por Alfredo Díaz Román

A Few Tears of Bile is a collection of poems that delves into various dimensions of the human experience. From deep spirituality to the complexities of interpersonal relationships, the verses explore the duality of emotions and aspirations that can inflame a heart over the span of less than a decade. Nature, introspective recollections, and dramatic encounters are intertwined in a poetic tapestry that invites contemplation. Adding a dose of humor and joviality now and then, contributes to the thematic richness of the collection. Together, these poems capture the diversity of life, the struggle between the earthly and the spiritual, and the conflicted beauty of contradiction in poetic expression.

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: Letrame Grupo Editorial
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 31 ene 2024
• ISBN: 9788410680395

Vista previa del libro

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© Alfredo Díaz Román

Diseño de edición: Letrame Editorial.

Maquetación: Juan Muñoz Céspedes

Diseño de cubierta: Rubén García

Supervisión de corrección: Celia Jiménez

ISBN: 978-84-1068-039-5

Ninguna parte de esta publicación, incluido el diseño de cubierta, puede ser reproducida, almacenada o transmitida de manera alguna ni por ningún medio, ya sea electrónico, químico, mecánico, óptico, de grabación, en Internet o de fotocopia, sin permiso previo del editor o del autor.

«Cualquier forma de reproducción, distribución, comunicación pública o transformación de esta obra solo puede ser realizada con la autorización de sus titulares, salvo excepción prevista por la ley. Diríjase a CEDRO (Centro Español de Derechos Reprográficos) si necesita fotocopiar o escanear algún fragmento de esta obra (www.conlicencia.com; 91 702 19 70 / 93 272 04 47)».

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For my parents

Prologue

Introduce me to the youth whose spirit has never been shaken; whose energy has never faded; whose chastity has never yielded; whose faith has never trembled; whose mind has never doubted; whose heart has never crumbled. Introduce me to this man, and I will surely, then and there, stab to the death the monster hiding beneath the juvenile skin, for there exists no youth who has not felt the weight of life crashing down upon his gentle back.

Introduce me, I must insist, to the youth whose blood does not burn before injustice; whose soul does not falter before his sins; whose hopes do not waver when life spits at him; who does not shake in terror with the thought of adulthood. Introduce me to this creature, and there again, I will behead that youthful mockery to prove its fakeness.

Introduce me, for one last time, to the youth whose skin does not sweat before beauty; whose heart does not pound at the sound of trumpets and battlecries; whose soul does not fly with thoughts of grandeur; whose spirit does not bow before the Word; whose intellect does not contemplate the void, and wonder. Introduce me to this monstrous waste, and burning white, jealous with the zeal for Truth, I will plunge the freak into the pit where the horrible fantasies of the denial of meaning swim among the waters of pride and hatred.

The following poems are a collection of verses that poured as sweat after a race, as blood after a fight, as tears after real life; verses that flowed from the deepest of the heart, from the brightest moments of the mind, and the darkest hours of my weaknesses; verses that flowed from the anguish of duty, honesty and responsibility; verses that flowed from the intoxicating journey of young love and idealism, from the meeting with true friendship and the cherishing of eternal time; verses that flowed and shined from the feeling of the kiss of God’s Eternal Word; verses that flowed from the despair that covered my soul when the abyss glanced back at me—it was so silent.

All these words, all these sentences, all these ideas, all these images, hold but pieces of the time we humans like to call adolescence, and which, I think, are universal. They represent scenes and fragments of that time when I learned that I could love God in a way I never imagined possible; of that time when I learned that I could hate sin with a force I did not know myself capable of; when I learned that the Truth is a proper noun and that Wisdom is something that by nature all men desire; but also, of the time I doubted, and denied it all. These poems represent extracts of what life throws at you when you are strong and weak, intelligent and stupid, fast and slow, truthful and false, brave and coward, hopeful and despairing, faithful and doubtful, a man of faith and an apostate.

These are the poems of my youth, a time I cherish, a time I love, a time I wish will be over soon if it cannot stay still until I die.

A. D. R.

Ciudad Satélite, México, October 2023.

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Poems in English

Dark Night

The sun was slowly setting, away, behind the sea;

its light was weak and dimming, and soon nowhere to see.

The shadows started spreading and darkness became king;

with winter’s coldness reigning there was no hope of spring.

Along an icy pathway, a traveler on strange horse

was riding with misgiving: his soul was in remorse.

The dark night was upon him; he wished he could be home,

but the beast had got the saddle, and left the road to roam.

The brute entered a forest and wandered with no goal;

the man wished to retire but did not take control.

He let the creature guide him and cried a big fake plea;

he knew the horse was blinded but chose to not be free.

At last he felt compunction—the dark test thought too strong;

with fight and light recovered