With the index finger of a tear | Wafi Salih

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”).


MOTHER

Something
nameless
was in the dust
of the house

Her silence
concedes
a tacit
complicity

Something loose

Over the old
carpet.


NACIB

Your shadow
in the broken
mirror
of the sand

Expands me
in the arid
formless
under 
the sun

Defeated
suicidal.


PRONOUNCING THE BEAT

Tell me, what battle
lacks on the entrails
without a God of insanity?

Drunken
suns
of night

Lead
to other hell
the hell

Life
you come from living
so far

Cracking
the chest of light
with nobody.


INFINITE BODY OF THE DARK

Someone adds shadows
to the croak of the frogs

Spells
the broken window

Where
lapidary
copy
the afternoon

The closed
paradise
of a pond.


WE

A tiger roars
at the background
of this day

Mirrors
exhales
an unspeakable fire
of razors

Release in a goodbye
its emptiness
at the corners

Battles without heroes of destiny

I absorb the bitterness
of all the nights together

This burst of hell that is life

Where it has been
repeatedly greedy
the happiness
with me.


APPRENTICE

Still alive
the undone hours
of my childhood

Something sings them

Forest of jaded
ruins

In the blind
universe of water
makes reverence
to ashes

Push in my bones
fill up
with sun

The dust
collected
of these
letters

Upon a wall
of sad
minutes

The bird´s
epitaph
is read
in air.


MEDITERRANEAN

This paper boat
that the rain brings
slow and lost

Remote and borderless

In the port of this cold morning
drained the sea and sank in your eyes.



SELECTION OF HAIKU 
From the book “Water consonants” (“Consonantes de agua”)

All so quiet
but still the cuckoo
of the heart.

At the bottom of the river
the pebbles falls
from the rain.

Hurt bird
my open hand
your sky now

White path
over my head
traces the moon

A kid shakes
pebbles on a bamboo
the milky way

I am bare feet
the dew over the grass
and Budah in the air

To my beloved
calla seems
the palm of my hand.


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