Wafi Salih, 1965, venezuelan poet. She is called a master of contemporary haiku.
She is Magister in Latinoamerican Literature from the Andes University with a doctoral project in the field of history and 19 different publications on: essay, poetry, story and theater. She is also known as “the humble poet”, due to her dedication as faithful lover, to literature and teaching. In her remarkable labor, we can refer to the permanent workshop of artistic formation: “José Antonio Ramos Sucre”.
Her thesis about genre, is a reflection that inquires about the society cultural production mode and its effects into the social being, this book was published by Monte Ávila Editors (2007), under the name “Las imágenes de la ausente” (“The images of the absent”), an innovative proposal about feminism, published in Mexico, 2019 by Hilal editors.
She has been partially translated to arabic, french, italian and english languages in different literary studies. Also has been object of literary criticism from writers of different countries, from different views.
Tomás Martínez Sancho, spanish poet, in his book “Raíz de Médano” (2014) (“Médano roots”), perceives the poetry of Salih as a fusion between East and West cultures. The poet and researcher Carlos Montesinos, who had been studying Salih´s work, since 20 years ago, created a literary category called the “Wafismo”, reinforced by references and philosophical reflections.
The passion of Soledad Vasquez Armella, venezuelan writer and translator of Salih´s literary work to english, writes from her inner experience in the interpretation of her poetry. Archeology of the luminous she dives into the symbolism, the intimate and the spiritual aspect of her poetry, in a serie of essays in process.
SOCIAL MEDIA
Facebook: Wafi Salih/ Instagram: @wafisalihreal/ Correo: santapalabra@hotmail.com.
Blog: wafisalih.blogspot.com
POEMS
Selection of 5 poems of the book: “With the index finger of a tear”, (“Con el índice de una lágrima”).
MOTHERSomethingnamelesswas in the dustof the houseHer silenceconcedesa tacitcomplicitySomething looseOver the oldcarpet.
NACIBYour shadowin the brokenmirrorof the sandExpands mein the aridformlessunderthe sunDefeatedsuicidal.PRONOUNCING THE BEATTell me, what battlelacks on the entrailswithout a God of insanity?Drunkensunsof nightLeadto other hellthe hellLifeyou come from livingso farCrackingthe chest of lightwith nobody.
INFINITE BODY OF THE DARKSomeone adds shadowsto the croak of the frogsSpellsthe broken windowWherelapidarycopythe afternoonThe closedparadiseof a pond.WEA tiger roarsat the backgroundof this dayMirrorsexhalesan unspeakable fireof razorsRelease in a goodbyeits emptinessat the cornersBattles without heroes of destinyI absorb the bitternessof all the nights togetherThis burst of hell that is lifeWhere it has beenrepeatedly greedythe happinesswith me.APPRENTICEStill alivethe undone hoursof my childhoodSomething sings themForest of jadedruinsIn the blinduniverse of watermakes reverenceto ashesPush in my bonesfill upwith sunThe dustcollectedof theselettersUpon a wallof sadminutesThe bird´sepitaphis readin air.
MEDITERRANEANThis paper boatthat the rain bringsslow and lostRemote and borderlessIn the port of this cold morningdrained the sea and sank in your eyes.SELECTION OF HAIKUFrom the book “Water consonants” (“Consonantes de agua”)All so quietbut still the cuckooof the heart.At the bottom of the riverthe pebbles fallsfrom the rain.Hurt birdmy open handyour sky nowWhite pathover my headtraces the moonA kid shakespebbles on a bamboothe milky wayI am bare feetthe dew over the grassand Budah in the airTo my belovedcalla seemsthe palm of my hand.
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