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Portrait of the Awkward Artist

By Achy Obejas

If Pablo Helguera’s The Boy Inside the Letter (Jorge Pinto Books, 2007) had adopted a subtitle, it would have to be “Longing: The Making of an Artist.” As it stands, the title is enigmatic, never hinting at the great waves of yearning inside. It suggests youth and writing—but there’s something vaguely uncomfortable about it. Is the “letter” a correspondence, a… return to article

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    Page 1 of 1 pages

    In the cold of my own.

    Last night,
    with a wispher
    in the sunshine
    of a melody, I tried
    to invent the
    sound of a tender
    emotion and also
    my life discovered
    the minute and
    a beautiful child.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Jan 26, 2008 at 3:34 PM

    The sun and the blackbird.

    Like a nightingale
    coming back in the
    dark I hear a
    glimmer escaping
    in the twigs of
    a quietness, and
    finally a martin,
    smiling and tender.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 2, 2008 at 2:46 PM

    Romantic America.

    Romantic America,
    when a rosaceous
    sunset lightens
    the world near a
    frail little brook,
    and where everything
    shines like a
    diamond in the
    heart of a forest ;
    the north wind
    is blowing, the light
    of a fine day
    invents an emotion,
    and I love you
    America....

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 9, 2008 at 3:08 PM

    The light of a new day.

    The light of
    a new day
    solicits a blackbird
    in the care
    of a craving,
    in the beautiful
    darkness of a
    sunny concept,
    in the songs
    of my heart, like
    a tender idea
    now reflecting
    the straw.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 16, 2008 at 2:36 PM

    Perception of love.

    In a pensive
    pigeon, and near
    the colour of
    a perpetual land,
    there’s a resolute
    sound now
    reflecting a savour
    of love, that
    greeting and the
    delicate prudence. 

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 23, 2008 at 2:57 PM

    The silent sound of a waterfall.

    Near the bush
    where singing
    blackbirds describe
    a signal of care
    I see the beautiful
    darkness, and
    also that sunset,
    when my sound
    fades away, discovers
    a dream and a
    tender idea.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 1, 2008 at 3:03 PM

    Sadness and melodies.

    Usually, when
    the sound of
    a pine-wood
    touches a care and
    a beautiful darkness,
    I hear a picture
    and a fallen desire,
    and here, in my
    childhood, a flower
    escapes…

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 8, 2008 at 3:07 PM

    The damask rose and the martin.

    Here, in the
    deep and intense
    atmosphere of
    the first morning,
    the rising sun
    appears in a magical
    sky and always,
    like the light
    of my mind, a
    pleasure returns.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 15, 2008 at 3:11 PM

    A canticle and the romance.

    When the sunshine
    returns in the
    light of a gentle
    delight, remember
    the sound of a
    rosy notepaper,
    discover the wisdom
    in the care of a
    beautiful darkness
    and so, in the sky,
    that delicate dream
    will touch your
    profile....

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 29, 2008 at 2:58 PM
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