9/11 remembrance, and a poem

The Shelter Island Fire Department held a 9/11 remembrance at the Center Firehouse at 8:45 AM on Frida to honor those who died in the attacks of September 11, 2001. To mark this anniversary we post the following poem.

It was contributed by Lila Zemborain, translated from Spanish by her son, Lorenzo Bueno. It’s part of a book, “Rasgado” (Buenos Aires: Tse-Tse, 2006), a poetic diary written in the year following 9/11. Zemborain wrote the poem, like others in the book, here on Shelter Island.

september 20, 2001

how do i remove this crust that coats what
i say in adjectives and eyes? and it is so unbearable
that when a plane passes over my head or
i hear the sound of a horn, the consistency of what
is said is as frivolous as cream; proust had been
so pernicious in his sequence of articulated
novelties, to resist this foolish rhetoric one
needs to push on and on; i hear planes crossing
the blue and suddenly the green in this solitude
recedes, every sound is a flight, every bird
the glare of a threat, another plane and the sky
I’m mending in my sternum begins to tear; i wonder
why there are so many cars coming and going,
but isn’t it just that today i have substantiated them
in every sound? even if i close my eyes the turbines
flow, a telephone rings, a chainsaw rumbles
behind the cicadas

And in the original Spanish:

20 de septiembre 2001

¿cómo sacarse esta corteza que recubre lo que
digo de adjetivos y de ojos? y es tan insostenible
que mientras pasa un avión por mi cabeza y
oigo sonar una bocina, la consistencia de lo dicho
es tan superficial como la crema; proust ha
sido nefasto con su articulada sucesión de
novedades, para combatir esta estúpida retórica
no hay más que seguir y seguir; oigo aviones que
recorren el celeste y de repente en esta soledad
el verde se retira, cada ruido es una huida,
cada pájaro el resplandor de una amenaza, otro
avión y empieza a desgarrarse el cielo que
intento reparar en mi esternón ¿por qué
tanto movimiento de autos me pregunto? ¿pero
no es que hoy lo constato en cada ruido?
aunque cierre los ojos las turbinas pasan,
suena un teléfono, una motosierra retumba
detrás de las cigarras

About Lila Zemborain

Lila Zemborain, who has a home on Shelter Island, is an Argentine poet and critic, who has been living in New York City since 1985. 

She is the author of the poetry collections, Abrete sésamo debajo del agua (Buenos Aires: Ediciones Último Reino, 1993), Usted (Buenos Aires: Ediciones Útimo Reino:1998), Guardianes del secreto (Buenos Aires: Tse-Tse, 2002, Hilos Editora,2012) / Guardians of the Secret (Las Cruces: Noemi Press, 2009), Malvas orquídeas del mar (Buenos Aries: Tse Tse, 2004) / Mauve-Sea Orchids (New York: Belladonna Books, 2007), Rasgado (Buenos Aires: Tse Tse, 2006), El rumor de los bordes (Sevilla: Sibila, 2011), Diario de la hamaca paraguaya (Rosario: Beatriz Viterbo Editora, 2014) and Materia blanda (Madrid: Amargord, 2014). In 2019 all of her poetry books together with two unpublished manuscripts were collected in Matrix Lux. Poesía reunida: 1989-2019 (Buenos Aires: Ediciones Bajo la luna)

Her work has been included in the anthologies Mujeres mirando al sur. Poetas sudamericanas en USA (2004) and Final de entrega. Antologíade poetás contra la violencia de género (2006). In 2019 all of her poetry books together with two unpublished manuscripts were collected in Matrix Lux. Poesía reunida: 1989-2019 (Buenos Aires: Ediciones Bajo la luna)

She worked in collaboration with poet Joan Navarro and artist Pere Salinas in Llum Cinabri / Calma Tectonica (Barcelona: Tanit, 2015), with artist Martin Reyna in La couleur de l’eau / El color del agua (Paris: Virginie Boissiere, 2008), and was published in the art catalogues Heidi McFall (New York: Aninna Nosei Gallery, 1995), and Alessandro Twombly (Bruselas, Alain Noirhomme Gallery, 2007). She is the Creative Editor of Xul Solar. Jorge Luis Borges. The Art of Friendship.  (New York: The Americas Society, 2012). 

She has authored the book-length essay Gabriela Mistral. Una mujer sin rostro (Rosario: Beatriz Viterbo Editora, 2002 / Santiago de Chile: Ediciones del Cardo, 2018). From 2000 to 2006, she was the director and editor of the Rebel Road Series, and since 2004 she curates the KJCC Poetry Series at New York University. In 2007 she co-founded the NYU MFA in Creative Writing in Spanish where she currently teaches. In that same year she was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship for poetry, in Spring 2010 she was a resident at the Millay Colony, and in 2015 she was finalist for the Festival de la Lira Award from Ecuador with her poetry collection Materia blanda.

Lorenzo Bueno is an interdisciplinary artist. He was born in Buenos Aires and raised in New York City. His work has been featured in various exhibitions, including “Peña” at ArteBa, Buenos Aires, Argentina and “City: Surface and Texture” at Dickinson Gallery, New York City, New York.