Sara Bùho’s Self-Centered Love

Sara Bùho’s first collection of poetry isn’t your typical love story. It isn’t your typical tale of heartbreak, either. The Colombian poet evolves from abject to resentful to proud as she works through her breakup in “Ataraxia of the Heart”.

Ataraxia is a Greek philosophical term for a state of tranquility, used to describe a soldier’s calm before battle. The phrase describes Bùho’s cathartic process of steeling herself against the vulnerability of an ugly breakup. Bùho applies her biting tone to the lofty emotions and mundane practicalities of the split. She ultimately defines love as something created for and by oneself, albeit with another person as its object.

Her poetry career began on the internet, where she often accompanies her poems with photography. Bùho, Owl in Spanish, is a pseudonym. She describes her poetry as, “…an almost aggressive way of expressing myself. Expressing and recycling feelings.”

Here’s a shot at translating one of her poems from the collection.

sara buho blog
sarabuho.blogspot.com

Give Me a Title and Tell It to Me

The next time

before catching our fingers

we’ll take care of destroying the door;

but it won’t be you

and obviously it won’t be me

 

It’s what’s left;

and if you still doubt it,

try to speak of us

but in the past;

as if we had become something

 

If it stings, don’t call me;

surely I already left running

in self-defense

 

Not giving a name to a chair

it’s no less a chair

and you’ve tried to do the same with a feeling;

I don’t know whether to call it ingenuity or cowardice

 

I’ve spent nights repeating to myself, “I told you”,

and it’s not for you,

it’s for me;

I’ll be frank:

I have a heart so broken

when I dance it sounds like crystals

 

It’s not your fault,

you didn’t break it:

you arrived with the intensity of an enormous sea,

like a storm in the middle of a desert,

and with every wave you eroded the edges

of every shard

 

Already the crystal does not hurt

but I’ve returned to be desert and thirst

 

Because when staying is trying the luck

of one that leaves their letters on the roof,

I’ll stay with myself and my circumstances

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