Reseña de Haikus Bilardo (Muerde Muertos, 2014), de Fernando Figueras y José María Marcos, con ilustraciones de Matías Berneman, por Yago S. Cura en Hinchas de Poesía (*)
During the
1986 and 1990 F IFA World Cups, Carlos Salvador Bilardo was the Icarus millions of Argentines
pinned their little pieces of wax to-even as they badmouthed his impetuous
squads. Currently, Bilardo is the general manager of Argentina ’s
National Teams, but he was also the steward of Argentina
Merriam
Webster’s Encyclopedia of Literature defines haikus as poems of “17 syllables
arranged in three lines containing five, seven, and five syllables,
respectively.” What Figueras and Marcos have done is replace the 5-7-5 of
traditional haikus with the 3-5-2 player formation used by Bilardo’s 1986
squad. In doing so, they have re-appropriated the ancient, and made it keen. With
this book, Figueras and Marcos rig the engine of an Acura NSX into the chassis
of a combustion-engine rickshaw; they soup-up the architecture of haikus to
suit their needs, and fulfill their historical, emotive aim. Haikus Bilardo are
a collection of poems ballasted by the historical documents, non-fiction
reportage, and biographies that were born as a result of the swag Argentina
These
souped-up poems are rooted in the childhood conjectures of Figueras and Marcos,
the popular memoirs of Diego Maradona (Yo Soy el Diego/ I am the Diego) and
Carlos Salvador Bilardo (Así ganamos/ That’s How We Won). There are also quotes
from veteran journalists like Juvenal of El Gráfico, Argentina’s newspaper
daily, the pixilated wisdom of ESPN docs like Pura Química (Pure Chemistry),
and respected Argentine writers like Fernando del Rio ,
Osvaldo Soriano, and Juan José Burzi. In terms of genre, Haikus Bilardo are
pastiched from accurate reportage to World Cup lore. After (Argentina ) losing to Camerún in the 1990 World
Cup, (and I’m quoting from the book here) Bilardo is known for having said,
“Gentlemen, either we get to the finals or pray the plane crashes when we go
back to Argentina
For
example, “Corea del Sur/ South Korea” documents that particular match which
transpired on the 2nd of June, 1986, and ended Argentina 3, South Korea 1; and,
“Valdano,/ ¡derecehazo al/ fondo!” makes particular reference to Argentina
Haikus are
suggestive dynamos, and a gateway form for other registers like free verse or
Tankas. 4th graders and octogenarians alike can dabble in haikus, knowing full
well that their powers of inference, conjecture, and analysis are going to be
engaged; moreover, we still force college freshmen to read about those black
petals resembling faces in the Metro, disavowing haikus in the original
language by Bashō or Issa, as if the suggestive penchant of that Pound poem
somehow encapsulated all of 20th Century Poetry. These poems find their
inspiration in Argentina ’s
World Cup performances in 1986 (in which no one believed in them and they won
the World Cup) and 1990 (in which they were favored but lost to Germany
This title
is perfect for libraries that have a hale Spanish poetry collection; however,
this title might be at home as well in a Latin American History college class,
or any arena where politics, history, and sport merge or intersect. Last, this
title might really come in handy in a collection used by Latino poets as it
documents the creation of a new form, or something heretofore not in existence,
and looking to freely associate. I think this title might even be useful to Spanish
language students as it not only recounts the history of the World Cup for Argentina
(*) Publicado en Julio de 2014.
Corea del Sur
by Fernando Figueras & José María Marcos
from Haikus Bilardo
Bilardo,
pasión, locura,
mística.
Pumpido,
Garré, Ruggeri,
Clausen,
Batista,
el Tata, Burru,
Giusti,
Pasculli,
el Valdagoles,
Diego.
Corea,
siglos de ciencia,
arte.
Temor
incertidumbre
nervios.
Valdano,
¡derechazo al
fondo!
Karate
contra Rey Diego,
furia.
Ruggeri,
letal cabeza,
¡capo!
Valdano
mete el tercero;
calma.
De lejos,
la rabia roja:
gólpark.
Fin. Viene
Italia; fe
sobra.
South Korea
translated
by Yago S. Cura
Bilardo,
Passion,
pure madness,
mythic.
Pumpido,
Garré, Ruggeri,
Clausen,
Batista,
El Tata, Burru,
Giusti,
Pasculli,
valiant
striker,
Diego.
decades of
Science,
the Arts.
Real, real
fear[,]
all
variables
and nerves.
Valdano,
forehand
directly
down
throat!
Karate
against
King Diego
fury.
Ruggeri,
lethal-steel
header,
the Don!
Valdano,
buries the
third goal:
then, calm.
From afar,
the red
wrath of rage:
gólpark
The end
comes.
spilleth.
Uruguay
by Fernando Figueras & José María Marcos
from Haikus Bilardo
Tenían
un gran arquero
que era
un muro
vestido de
Álvez
Sacaba
todos los tiros
nuestros.
Pero una…
quedose en el
área…
y Pedro
Pablo chumbó
bajo.
¡Pasculli,
goleador
grosso!
¿Y si
nos meten uno?
¡Fritos!
Mas no,
Uruguay no hace
goles.
¡Que el triunfo
sea pues del
verso!
Mirá,
las cosas cómo
fueron:
ganamos
un duelo de
guapos,
a días
del adiós a
Borges.
Uruguay
translated by Yago S. Cura
They had a
mythical
goalie
that was
solid wall
fly and
dressed to nines:
Álvez.
He would
clear
all our
weak, tired
soft shots.
Except one…
that
lingered in the…
area…
and Pedro
Pablo
bulleted
real low.
Pasculli
robust goal
maker,
robust!
And if they
Score on
one on us?
We’re
fried!
More no
way,
goals,
nope.
May triumph
come from
the lips of
verses!
Look.
Learn,
things[,]
how they ended up[.]
There
were[…]
we won
a duel
between
tough guys
in the days
of scant
goodbyes to
Borges.Alemania
by Fernando Figueras & José María Marcos
from Haikus Bilardo
Celestes,
verdes, delirio,
gritos.
Azteca,
cancha jamás
nunca.
Equipo
de Rummenigge,
duro.
Un centro
de Burru, ¡gol
Tata!
Enrique,
Diego, Valdano,
brillo.
Dos centros,
dos goles verdes,
llanto.
El sueño
se desvanece,
Diego.
¿Por qué
nos dejaste, oh,
padre?
Que se
agriete el mar
rojo.
¡La magia
de Dios y gol
Burru!
¡Equipo
campeón del
mundo!
¡Bilardo,
Argentina, oh,
haikus!
Germany
translated by Yago S. Cura
Baby blues,
greens, delirium,
shouts.
Azteca
stadium never been
nevered.
Team
Rummenigge,
damn tough.
A center
from Burru, a goal
from Tata!
Enrique,
Diego, Valdano
shinning.
Two centers,
two green goals,
loud sobs.
The dream keeps
withering away,
Diego.
Why have you
forsaken us father?
Father?
May the Red
Sea croak with tartness
and Red.
The magic
of god and goals Burru[.]
Burru!
The very squad[,]
champions of the world!
The world!
Bilardo,
Argentina, oh,
haikus!