
Photo: The Theatre of the jungle
Castilla Guaira us resend a text, in this case it is a poem by his brother Teuco.
But where will we get?, "Titerenet poets? - One may wonder.
And I answer, without blushing:
"But poets, we have always been.
Water puppets.
The water puppet plays with a buffalo
sinking
by the weight of the soul of buffalo.
A crocodile moves
the buffalo, who knows he is an animal,
still bogged down
of water innocence.
The puppet, with the instinct of puppet
alarmed
know that the crocodile
has a real eye painted wood
that form is hunger in other ways
and there are plays where nothing happens.
The crocodile jumps and eats
and sinks
like a ship in distress
in the brain of a viewer.
The puppet, safe behind the scenes,
can not say a word.
The day is false and real death.
And while the music, like a wind,
paddy moves props
play water is water.
Leopoldo Castilla
Posted on Monday July 31, 2006










