Dear Friends,

I hope that you are enjoying your days filled with poetry. March was a busy month for the society celebrating the one and only Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.

Thank you to our artists who passionately participated in our programs. Diana X. Muñiz, Lorena B. Fernandez incredible readers and our artist in residence Randy Cordero, flamenco guitarist. Also thank you to George Zombakis, Casa Ramirez FolkArt Gallery, MECA and The Artery who sponsored the venues.

Remembering Pablo Neruda

The Flamenco Poets Society in collaboration with the Artery will present a special event to celebrate Pablo Neruda's birthday anniversary. The reading will take place on Saturday, July
10, 2010 at 8:00pm at the Artery. We will read a selection of poems written by Neruda throughout his life. The program will be a bilingual reading by Julietta Parra Ducote and Diana X. Muñiz. The event will be free but those who would like to make a small contribution ($10) will go towards the Artery.

Please join us for the celebration and chill out under the canopy of the Artery trees. You are welcome to invite friends, family and dear ones to the program. For details please call
Julietta at 713-520-9364.

Pablo Neruda (July 12, 1904 – September 23, 1973) Pablo Neruda is considered one of the greatest and most influential poets of the 20th century. Cien sonetos de amor / 100 love sonnets was written in honor of his beloved wife Matilde Urrutia.

Poema IV

Recordarás aquella quebrada caprichosa
a donde los aromas palpitantes treparon,
de cuando en cuando un pájaro vestido
con agua y lentitud: traje de invierno.

Recordarás los dones de la tierra:
irascible fragancia, barro de oro,
hierbas del matorral, locas raíces,
sortílegas espinas como espadas.

Recordarás el ramo que trajiste,
ramo de sombra y agua con silencio,
ramo como una piedra con espuma.

Y aquella vez fue como nunca y siempre:
vamos allí donde no espera nada
y hallamos todo lo que está esperando.

Poem IV

You will remember that leaping stream
where sweet aromas rose and trembled,
and sometimes a bird, wearing water
and slowness, its winter feathers.

You will remember those gifts from the earth:
indelible scents, gold clay,
weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,
magical thorns like swords.

You’ll remember the bouquet you picked,
shadows and silent water,
bouquet like a foam-covered stone.

That time was like never, and like always.
So we go there, where nothing is waiting:
we find everything waiting there.