Frank Baéz
translated by Anthony Seidman
Sirens
The Sirens of the Caribbean sing
with the same potency of the Choir
in a Harlem church atrium.
If you wish to hear them, come at night
to the reefs by the boardwalk and tune your ears.
When the proper moment arises,
both sea-breeze and waves will unleash their canto.
The sea will beat against the reefs like congas and timbales,
and from far on high the stars
will release a tinkling of silver.
If you’re lucky the moon may even rise
with her saxophone.
I Want to Believe
I remember I once had a neighbor
who assured me that the pilot
aboard the little plane that circled
above the neighborhood was her sweetheart.
She would put on makeup and stand
on a corner, her head looking
up to the sky, waiting
for that little plane to appear.
Whenever it flew by, she would
turn euphoric, and wave a kerchief
as if it were possible for him
to see her from those heights.
We knew that the pilot sweetheart
didn’t exist, that it was all
illusions and deliriums belonging
to a tropical Emma Bovary.
We even had the inside scoop:
the little airplane took off
from a nearby airport and that
it was piloted by aficionados
who enjoyed some flight time.
Despite that, we continued
to fantasize about the pilot sweetheart
as if we were watching
some move from Hollywood
and we couldn’t do anything
about the matter, a movie
about the World War II
entitled The Pilot’s Sweetheart,
with Audrey Hepburn
in the lead role, but in this case,
a black Audrey Hepburn.
Even today, I still remember
her beauty and envying those
aboard the little airplane that
circled above our neighborhood yet
had no idea that down here
she was waving and dreaming
that one day they would elope
and take her far away.
Bio
Frank Baéz (Santo Domingo, 1971) has long been considered as one of the leading poets of his generation. He is also widely read as a short story author and journalist. He won the highly coveted prize for poetry in his nation named after Salomé Ureña (2009), and his most recent collection of poetry gathers work from nearly two decades, entitled Este es el futuro que estabas esperando (Seix Barral, Colombia). His poetry effortlessly fuses pop culture with the literary tradition of his nation, as well as the history and cultures of the Greater Antilles. In addition to his work as an author, he is founding member of the music group El hombrecito, as well as the editor of Ping Pong literary journal.
Anthony Seidman’s recent full length translations include Contra Natura (Cardboard House Press) by Rodolfo Hinostroza; A Stab in the Dark (LARB CLassics) by Facundo Bernal, and Caribbean Ants (Spuyten Duyvil) by Homero Pumarol. Poems, translations, and articles have appeared in publications like Latin American Literature Today, World Literature Today, Huizache, Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Poetry International, and journals in Mexico, France, Chile, and Argentina.