The Dream Day Poem by Jesús Herrera

A while ago I got a Dream Day poem from a young poet called Jesús Herrera in Puebla. It was written in Spanish and I was going to translate it into English once my Spanish had improved. But before I was finished with my course, a young journalist from Mexico City; Gabriel Infante, who had found Proyecto Zapato on Youtube, read my blog, discovered the poem, offered to translate it for me. It was of course an offer I could not resist.

Thank you Jesús and Gabriel for your contribution to the Dreamdayproject!

Here comes the Dream Day poem translated into English:


How dramatic can perfection be?

How monotonous or
ephemeral?

Could I contemplate the ether
of the fountains

and the grid of a dream
of exiles;

What justices that claim
nostalgia

without gods perception
or the empty chairs,

dismantle the wooden
coffins

and protects their smile against
melancholic beams

and shoes stories,
without laces on the asphalt

nor residual of slaves,
to abolish the oblivion in each

estimated steps,
reciting to new vicious

of wolfs and
veiled anarchists

in this battle against,
human structure,

dream day…
dismantle dictatorship
and all the utopias


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How I Found A Dreamday Poem

Sometimes when you are searching for something in particular, it might happen that you walk right into it, but because it didn´t come to you as you had imagined, and the appearance wasn´t exactly what you had expected, you end up walking past it while your mind is entirely focused on finding that very same thing.

There are probably thousands of situations like that, passing us by without our notice. It was just about to happen to me yesterday but luckily something made me stop for a second.

It all happened when I was on my way to the bank. I was crossing the main square with music in my ears and the laptop under my arm. I walked past the big fountain, looking at the shoe polishers that I had planned to interview later this week. I was thinking about my projects and how to proceed and I was thinking about the Dreamdayproject. Had I collected my last Dreamday in Oaxaca? Was it time to move on and leave the project to its destiny?

While I was in the middle of these thoughts I noticed two teenagers walking up to me. One of them was making a gesture to take of my headphones. At first I was slightly irritated. I was right in the middle of a great song* and I was in a hurry to go to the bank and later to the café so that I could get started with my projects. But as the polite girl I am, I took of my headphones and turned to the two guys. After all I didn´t have that many people to talk to during a normal day. I guess it wouldn´t hurt to hear what they had to say.

-Would you like a poem? The same guy asked me.

-A Poem?

-Yes, a poem. I will write it for you now.

-Hm, I am not sure...

(The guy made a disappointed face. )

-That is what everybody says! Nobody wants my poems!

I looked at him and in the same moment I realized something. Was this how people saw me when I walked up to them asking them about their Dreamday? Were they perhaps in the middle of their favorite song too?

-Ok, so how does it work? I said.

-You can choose the topic yourself and then I will write a poem to you in a couple of minutes. In return you can just give me a smile or maybe some money if you want...

-Alright I said, but let me just go to the bank first, I don´t have any money on me.

-Are you sure you will come back?

-Yes, I will be here at the fountain again in five minutes.

-You promise?

-Yes!

On my way to the bank I continued listening to that very same song while going through the conversation with the young guy in my head. What a brilliant idea to write poems and sell. If there are no jobs, just create one. I have never seen this creativity among people anywhere else than here in Mexico and I loved it. And of course I wanted a poem. But about what??

I bought myself a bottle of water and then I walked back to the fountain. The guy was still there with his friend. We sat down on a bench next to the fountain and started to talk.

-You know on my way to the bank I thought about the idea, I said. And you know what? I realized I would very much like a poem actually. It also fits perfectly into a project that I am working on right now.

-Ah yeah?

-Yes, I would like you to write a poem on the topic: A Dreamday. Could you do that?

-Sure! He said and took up his notebook.

While he was writing we chatted for a while about his poems and about the people he had met. He told me his business was slow and that nobody wanted to pay for his poems.

-People think that art is for free, even the guys selling lollipops make more than me...

As he kept writing I talked to his friend. I told him about my projects and what a great coincidence this whole thing turned out to be. I found a couple of stickers that I had forgotten in my bag since the presentation in Oaxaca and gave them to them.

By now the poet was done with his work and he started to read it to me. I wasn´t exactly sure about what it all meant, but I think I liked it. Afterwards he gave me the written copy. I thanked him, gave him some money in return and said good bye. Then I continued walking towards my favorite cafe at the corner of the square, ordered an ice tea, and started to write it all down.

The first Dreamday poem had been written and incorporated into the the Dreamdayproject. I can´t believe I almost missed it.






*) While writing this post I realized that the song that I had been listening to, was called "Drömmarna" (The Dreams) by Freddie Wadling. Life is full of coincidences isn´t it?

Listen to 30 seconds of "Drömmarna" by Freddie Wadling

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