The writer and friend of Elche, Jesus Zomeño is fond of collecting military, photos, logos, etc obj

The writer and friend of Elche, Jesus Zomeño is fond of collecting military, photos, logos, etc objects, 1st Mundal War. About a year, makes friends sent us this photo of a Belgian soldier, it only knew it was called Crombez and died in the woods of Hout Hulst in 1918 We had to write a short text, imagining what were his last words. With all the poems and stories, he would publish a booklet in one of those beautiful handmade editions ago. The book, in effect, was published, but my text-for not miss the usual-did not arrive on time. Now, this prose poem I wrote for the occasion is one of the texts that are part of my poetry book "The right place" (Word Ibérica, 2008). Here I show you the photo of the soldier and Castilian poem and its translation into Portuguese poet Tiago made by Nene.
O soldier Crombez lonestar auction olha to objectiva da Câmara com stiffness. Desconhece or take small-ao almoço essa manhã, lonestar auction Paraque trincheira batalha na front and it will be sent dois diasdepois lonestar auction numa morrerá ao forest ambush Hout Hulst. Obviously Belgian soldier or não é a photograph known last sua. Muito unless lonestar auction depois decades will be sold this num I leilão that includes homem com sem know that phrase lonestar auction deve continue or text escrevia and that deixou here. Who knows não, não you saberás like you, you place os teus olhos no paper, or sem sair Dúvida pass ao das desta palavra curves. Não sei onde you shall levy isto é you are driv to algum place, or perhaps more important dizer seja é or soldier that everyone Crombez. All forest espreita us or e um last pequenoalmoço.É or know. A single coisa. Assim that sorrimos for a câmara.
The Crombez soldier looks at the camera lens stiffly. Unknown what have breakfast that morning, what trench in the front and will be sent two days later dead in an ambush in the forest Hout Hulst. lonestar auction Of course, the Belgian soldier knows it's his last picture. Much less that decades later will be sold at auction this man who contemplates not knowing what the text will sentence writing and has left right here. Do not know, as you know, look perches on paper, what will happen for sure when leaving curves of this word. You will not know where you read this if it leads somewhere, lonestar auction but maybe try to say is that we are all the soldier Crombez. To all lurks the forest and a final breakfast. That's what we know. The only. So we smile at the camera.
I do not want another tank or new rocks at the bottom. I want to learn the delay, the slow harmony acts. Fix my lidless eyes on things and filter the light slowly. In the shadows lonestar auction and contrails blur, but see what is there: the water where I move better.
Rafael Camarasa Born in Valencia in 1963 has published books of poetry and stories. His latest collection of poems, "The right place", has won the International Poetry Prize Iberian Word 2008, being translated into portugués.Uno of his poems gives title to this blog. In 2009 he published his first book of stories, entitled "Ugly" (Editorial Denes), winner of the Short Story Award Chiva. View my complete profile
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