#Humberto Ak’abal

[sakaeglr]

Vení, bonita.

Comámos un chirmol,

comámos unos tamalitos y tomémonos

un vasito de café

y hablemos de tus sueños

y de los míos.

Humberto Ak’abal.

[aescheretalks]

Aretak'ulo ri saq'ij

ri man kuyata ub'e ri q'equmal,

xa jewa, man kaqa tzaqta ri uretal

re ri qa b'e.

so that the light does not let

the darkness take over

and the markings of our road

will remain.

[solar-settings]

rupture, humberto ak’abal, tr. micheal bazzett // tai and van, yellowjackets

[emabeesart]

EmaBee Inspiration: Humberto Ak’abal

Happy Humberto Ak’abal Day! Humberto Ak’abal Day was on January 28, so this post is a little late, but still worth celebrating. He is a Maya K’iche’ poet from Guatemala. According to Wikipedia, he began writing his poetry in Spanish because he was ‘illiterate’ in his mother tongue, but eventually started to write in K’iche’. He translated his own poems into Spanish to make them more accessible…

[loveseaspiritfan-blog]

Non che le pietre siano mute: conservano il silenzio soltanto. Humberto Ak’Abal

[essaysanddnd]

If birds wrote down their songs they would have been forgotten long ago.

Humberto Ak’Abal, “If Birds”

For more on how this poem works, i.e. “Is it a mic drop?”

[poesiablog60]

La luna era una grande casa

seduta sulla schiena della collina.

Quando mio padre mi rimproverava,

io andavo dalla luna

e lì dormivo.

Humberto Ak’abal

[voxnihhili]

O velho canto do sangue

Eu não mamei a língua castelhana quando cheguei ao mundo.

Minha língua nasceu entre as árvores e tem sabor de terra; a língua de minhas avós é a minha casa

E se uso esta língua que não é minha, faço como quem usa uma chave nova e abre outra porta e adentra outro mundo onde as palavras têm outra voz e outro modo de sentir a terra.

Esta língua é a memória de uma dor e a falo sem temor nem vergonha porque foi comprada com o sangue de minhas ancestrais.

Nesta nova língua te mostro as flores do meu canto te trago o sabor de outras tristezas e a cor de outras alegrias...

Esta língua é apenas mais uma chave para cantar o velho canto do meu sangue.

Humberto Ak’abal, poeta Maya K’iche’

[intotheclash]

Gialla con macchioline nere. Sembrava pensierosa sulla palma della mia mano, le ho parlato e la sua risposta è stata più grande del silenzio. I miei occhi distillavano amore selvaggio. Il vento la strappò dalla mia mano. Vola, vola, vola: le gridavo. E la farfalla andò cadendo a poco a poco fino a baciare la terra.

Humberto Ak’abal - Farfalla

[soul-and-blues]

À tes côtés, la lumière n'est pas nécessaire et le miel est de trop.

Humberto Ak’Abal

[sakaeglr]

“Mayuli”

Cuando estás conmigo

no sé dónde queda el mundo.

Humberto Ak’abal.

[aescheretalks]

Ri achi xu chakuj ri ko’k nabe che ri xik’

Pa ri ko’k kog’ ri chikop che ri alajil re rapapik

Humans invented the jail cell before they invented wings.

In their cages, the winged ones sing about freedom

[alternativassi]

Chile/ El dolor de los otros

Hemos nacido -los mestizos de las urbes- con un sello en la mirada. “Cuando nací me pusieron dos lágrimas en los ojos para que pudiera ver el tamaño del dolor de mi gente.” (Humberto Ak’abal)   La vida del indígena latinoamericano trae, desde el nacimiento, el sino de la resistencia. Siglos han transcurrido y los habitantes originarios de este exuberante continente han perdido poco a poco sus…

[duchess-queen1203-blog]

Well I read this poem called “I took your name out of my mind” by Humberto Ak’abal. And this is my own version here: I never wanted to forget your name and when I heard what happened, I cried, howling your name. and it was when I realized how much you meant. You were my rock, and I couldn't be yours. Us, together, made us feel forever young. You became my sun. You made me shine like diamonds. And I let you walk out and drive that night, and now I stand here in front of your grave whispering your name.

[lasalsainglesa]

On the day of International Mother Language (día de la lengua materna), a poem by the great Humberto Ak’abal, Mayan poet from Guatemala: The Ancient Song of My Blood I didn’t drink Spanish from my mother’s breast when I came into the world. My language was born among the trees, and tastes like earth; my grandparent’s language is my home, If I use this language that’s not mine, I use it like a shiny key to open doors to another world where the words have another voice and another way of connecting to the earth. This language is the memory of pain and I speak it without fear or pain because my ancestors bought it with their blood. In this new language I’ll show you my flowering song, I’ll bring you the taste of other laments the color of other joys…. This language is only one more key to sing the ancient song of my blood. Ojer bix re ri kik’el Man xintu’ ta ri’, ri kaxlan tzijobalil are taq xinalaxik. Ri nuch’abalil xalax cho k’iche’laj xuquje jas ne’ ulew ri unaba’il, ri kich’abalil ri wati’t numan are ri’ ri wachoch. Are we kinch’awik para kaxlan tzij, xa je ta che kinkoj jun k’ak’ lawe ri kutor jun uchi’ ja chik ri kok cho jun k’ak’ ulew ri jawi ri tzij k’o wi chi ri kakibij k’o wi chi ri kinaba’il che ri ulew. Wa kaxlan tzij are una’tasibal re jun k’ex, xuquje man kink’ix ta wib we kintrijon chupam rumal che loq’om wa ruk’ ri kikik’el re ri nuxe’tayil uwi’ nujolom. Pa wa jun kak’ ch’abalil kink’ut chawe ri ukotz’ijal re ri nubix, ri una’bal re k’o wi chi taq bis xuquje uwachibal re k’o wi chi taq ki’kotemal… Wa kaxlan tzij xa jun lawe chik che ubixoxik ri ojer bix re ri nukik’el. https://www.instagram.com/p/CLkl6IEHQ_W/?igshid=rzs4k59um1jy

[yo-mismo-me-rio-de-mi]

In the churches you can only hear the prayer of the trees converted to pews

Humberto Ak’abal, from Poems I brought down from the mountain: “The Prayer”