Shared by Phoebe Huang - Revision history

Oscar at 22:03, 17 July 2020

2020-07-17T22:03:59Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:03, 17 July 2020
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	{\|		{\|
	! Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]		! style="width: 50%;" \| Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
	! De [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]		! style="width: 50%;" \| De [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
	\|-		\|-
	\|</br><b>Kite Maker</b>		\|</br><b>Kite Maker</b>

Oscar at 20:35, 17 July 2020

2020-07-17T20:35:26Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:35, 17 July 2020
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	~~<br>~~Oh cómo hubieran revoloteado tus papalotes		Oh cómo hubieran revoloteado tus papalotes
	<br>Como yo pesco para estar contigo,		<br>Como yo pesco para estar contigo,
	<br>Tu eres un misterio,		<br>Tu eres un misterio,

Oscar at 20:35, 17 July 2020

2020-07-17T20:35:04Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:35, 17 July 2020
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	{\|		{\|
	! Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]		! Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
	! ~~Desde~~ [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]		! De [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
	\|-		\|-
	\|</br><b>Kite Maker</b>		\|</br><b>Kite Maker</b>
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	Oh, how must your hands work..		Oh, how must your hands work..
	<br>I can see ~~it—~~ flipping, flexing, collecting		<br>[[Shared by Lily Cryan\|I can see it]]— flipping, flexing, collecting
	<br>pages upon pages of postal stamps.		<br>pages upon pages of postal stamps.
	<br>You cradle them close as you must have of Mom and aunt.		<br>You cradle them close as you must have of Mom and aunt.
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	What mail had you received?		What mail had you received?
	<br>Is it songs you sang or lines of sweet seedlings?		<br>Is it [[Shared by Philip Leonard Ocampo\|songs you sang]] or lines of sweet seedlings?
	<br>Or perhaps a pocket of glue.		<br>Or perhaps a pocket of glue.
	<br>What places did you imagine going to,		<br>[[De Ricardo Lira\|What places did you imagine going to]],
	<br>Was it with me?		<br>Was it with me?

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	<br>For what fantasies have I strung you to I.		<br>For what fantasies have I strung you to I.
	<br>A creature burrowing for her hands.		<br>A creature burrowing for her hands.
			<br>Where must they go in finding yours.
			<br>For how you must have seen past the gates.


	~~Where must they go in finding yours.~~		Oh how your kites must have flounder,
	~~<br>For how you must have seen past the gates.~~
	~~<br>~~Oh how your kites must have flounder,
	<br>As I fish to be with you,		<br>As I fish to be with you,
	<br>You are a mystery,		<br>You are a mystery,
			<br>Then that is [[Shared by Charlotte\|where I must belong]].


	~~Then that is where I must belong.~~		You mustn’t have imagined that.
	~~<br>~~You mustn’t have imagined that.
	<br>For how I have never seen,		<br>For how I have never seen,
	<br>For how I have never made a kite,		<br>For how I have never made a kite,
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	You stand there with paste in your hands,		You stand there with paste in your hands,
	<br>As I stand here from the gate.		<br>As I stand here from the gate.
	<br>I wonder then who are you?		<br>I wonder then [[Shared by Maria Hupfield\|who are you?]]
	<br>What am I?		<br>[[Shared by Giulio\|What am I?]]
	~~</poem>~~
	\|<b>El Papalotero</b>		\|<b>El Papalotero</b>
	</br>		</br>
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	Oh, Cómo debieron trabajar tus manos..		Oh, Cómo debieron trabajar tus manos..
	<br>Me lo imagino — volteando, flexionando, coleccionando		<br>[[Shared by Lily Cryan\|Me lo imagino]] — volteando, flexionando, coleccionando
	<br>Páginas y páginas de estampas postales.		<br>Páginas y páginas de estampas postales.
	<br>Acunadas cerca de ti como harías con madre y tía.		<br>Acunadas cerca de ti como harías con madre y tía.
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	¿Que correo recibirías?		¿Que correo recibirías?
	<br>¿Serían canciones que cantaste o un dulce sembradero?		<br>¿Serían [[Shared by Philip Leonard Ocampo\|canciones que cantaste]] o un dulce sembradero?
	<br>¿O quizás una bolsa de pegamento?		<br>¿O quizás una bolsa de pegamento?
	<br>¿A qué lugares imaginarías ir?		<br>[[De Ricardo Lira\|¿A qué lugares imaginarías ir?]]
	<br>¿Sería conmigo?		<br>¿Sería conmigo?

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	Oh cómo hubieran revoloteado tus papalotes		<br>Oh cómo hubieran revoloteado tus papalotes
	<br>Como yo pesco para estar contigo,		<br>Como yo pesco para estar contigo,
	<br>Tu eres un misterio,		<br>Tu eres un misterio,
	<br>Entonces ahí es donde tengo que pertenecer.		<br>Entonces ahí es [[Shared by Charlotte\|donde tengo que pertenecer]].


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	Ahí estás con pasta en tus manos,		Ahí estás con pasta en tus manos,
	<br>Mientras yo aquí desde la garita.		<br>Mientras yo aquí desde la garita.
	<br>Y me pregunto ¿Quién eres?		<br>Y me pregunto [[Shared by Maria Hupfield\|¿Quién eres?]]
	<br>¿Qué soy yo?		<br>[[Shared by Giulio\|¿Qué soy yo?]]
	~~</poem>~~
	\|}		\|}

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	<small>Written and shared in English by Phoebe Huang in the summer of 2020, Translated by Oscar Alfonso</small>		<small>Written and shared in English by Phoebe Huang in the summer of 2020, Translated by Oscar Alfonso</small>
			<br><small>Escrito y compartido en inglés por Giulio en el verano del 2020, Traducido por Oscar AlfonsoM/small>

Oscar at 16:55, 16 July 2020

2020-07-16T16:55:39Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:55, 16 July 2020
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	<br>¿Alguna vez conjurarías un pensamiento de mi?		<br>¿Alguna vez conjurarías un pensamiento de mi?
	<br>Me pregunto.		<br>Me pregunto.


	¿Estaría el papel rojo contra las costillas de bambú?		¿Estaría el papel rojo contra las costillas de bambú?

Oscar at 16:55, 16 July 2020

2020-07-16T16:55:15Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:55, 16 July 2020
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	! Desde [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]		! Desde [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
	\|-		\|-
	\|~~Hello Avocado.~~		\|</br><b>Kite Maker</b>
	</br>		</br>
	My grandfather of whom I never knew,		My grandfather of whom I never knew,
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	<br>What am I?		<br>What am I?
	</poem>		</poem>
	\|~~Hola Aguacate.~~		\|<b>El Papalotero</b>
	</br>		</br>
	Un abuelo de cuál núnca supe,		Un abuelo de cuál núnca supe,

Oscar: Created page with " {| ! Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang] ! Desde [https://phoebe..."

2020-07-16T16:54:09Z

Created page with "<center><evlplayer id="player1" w="720" service="vimeo" defaultid="435870456" /><center> {| ! Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang] ! Desde [https://phoebe..."

New page

<center><evlplayer id="player1" w="720" service="vimeo" defaultid="435870456" /><center>

{|
! Shared by [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
! Desde [https://phoebehuang.cargo.site/ Phoebe Huang]
|-
|Hello Avocado.

My grandfather of whom I never knew,
 A poet and a kite maker—who are you?
 What words were possibly written, what were unspoken?
 Had you ever conjured a thought of me?
 I wonder.

Was the paper red against bamboo ribs?
 How has suns appeared through it?

Your form cradled and waned against grass straws,
 I imagined the paste used to bind tapered edges,
 As paper fishes fluttered through yellow skies.

Oh, how must your hands work..
 I can see it— flipping, flexing, collecting
 pages upon pages of postal stamps.
 You cradle them close as you must have of Mom and aunt.

What mail had you received?
 Is it songs you sang or lines of sweet seedlings?
 Or perhaps a pocket of glue.
 What places did you imagine going to,
 Was it with me?

What is it from life, can I live off of yours?
 I imagined what you must have imagined.
 I stand here under the 86 gate, perplexed.
 Buried inwards, there is no red kite.
 Not even in the rock garden.

You mustn't have imagined
 how your girls embraced life.
 For what fantasies have I strung you to I.
 A creature burrowing for her hands.

Where must they go in finding yours.
 For how you must have seen past the gates.
 Oh how your kites must have flounder,
 As I fish to be with you,
 You are a mystery,

Then that is where I must belong.
 You mustn’t have imagined that.
 For how I have never seen,
 For how I have never made a kite,
 For how I never made a poem.

You stand there with paste in your hands,
 As I stand here from the gate.
 I wonder then who are you?
 What am I?
</poem>
|Hola Aguacate.

Un abuelo de cuál núnca supe,
 Un poeta y papalotero — ¿Quién erés?
 ¿Que palabras pudieron ser escritas, cuáles fueron tácitas?
 ¿Alguna vez conjurarías un pensamiento de mi?
 Me pregunto.

¿Estaría el papel rojo contra las costillas de bambú?
 ¿Cómo aparecería el sol atravesándolo?

Tu forma acunada y menguada contra el pasto,
 Me imagino la pasta que usarías para ligar orillas ahusadas,
 Mientras peces de papel aleteaban en cielos amarillos.

Oh, Cómo debieron trabajar tus manos..
 Me lo imagino — volteando, flexionando, coleccionando
 Páginas y páginas de estampas postales.
 Acunadas cerca de ti como harías con madre y tía.

¿Que correo recibirías?
 ¿Serían canciones que cantaste o un dulce sembradero?
 ¿O quizás una bolsa de pegamento?
 ¿A qué lugares imaginarías ir?
 ¿Sería conmigo?

¿Que será de vida, podría vivir de la tuya?
 ¿Yo me imaginé lo que tú te imaginarías?
 Yo estoy bajo la garita del 86, perpleja.
 Enterrado hacia dentro, no hay un papalote rojo.
 Ni siquiera en el jardín de rocas.

No te has de haber imaginado
 como tus hijas abrazaron la vida.
 Por cuales fantasías te he enlazado de mí a tí.
 Una criatura excavando buscando sus manos.
 ¿A dónde deberían ir para encontrar las tuyas?
 Por cómo hubieras visto a través de la garita.

Oh cómo hubieran revoloteado tus papalotes
 Como yo pesco para estar contigo,
 Tu eres un misterio,
 Entonces ahí es donde tengo que pertenecer.

No te hubieras haber imaginado esto.
 Por como núnca había visto,
 Por como núnca había hecho un papalote,
 Por como núnca hice un poema.

Ahí estás con pasta en tus manos,
 Mientras yo aquí desde la garita.
 Y me pregunto ¿Quién eres?
 ¿Qué soy yo?
</poem>
|}

----

Written and shared in English by Phoebe Huang in the summer of 2020, Translated by Oscar Alfonso