Poetry

Four Poems

by  Blanca Garnica
translated by Camille Gagnier
Two ripe plums hang from a tree branch
Photo: Domeckopol/Pixabay 

6

His under-
wear 
white

Armpits 
spotless
and collar
neat

From Monday to Monday
he is like that
because the drainpipe
carries off
the rest.

 

12

Before me
their feet advance
they pass
                 they push
                                  they pound
the elephants

At my core
and just
below my breasts
grief begs
to be cauterized.

 

13

With every gulp
of air
she breathed
his hands

shattered
in a thousand mirrors
to prevent it

She
took refuge
in the bushes
between cantos
but still the Cyclops’
stone
caught her.

 

67

I look openly: 
he stows
his heart 
in his pocket

Today
my cheeks
are taut
like plums.

Translations from the Spanish


Blanca Garnica (b. 1944, Cochabamba) is a Bolivian poet and teacher of literature. She has published twelve collections of poetry, and her poetry has appeared in numerous national periodicals and anthologies. In 2017 Garnica was honored by the Cochabamba International Book Fair for her contributions to Bolivian literature.


Camille Gagnier (b. 1993, New Jersey) is a writer and translator of poetry. She studies philosophy at Birkbeck College in London.

Buy PRINT Issue  Subscribe TO WLT