Gustavo Gac-Artigas in Translation

Gustavo and Priscilla Gac-Artigas. Credit Priscilla Gac-Artigas

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Born in Santiago de Chile in 1944, Gustavo Gac-Artigas is a Chilean poet, novelist, playwright, and former political prisoner whose writing has long engaged with questions of memory, exile, testimony, and the ethical responsibilities involved in using language. Following the 1973 military coup, Gac-Artigas was imprisoned and tortured before being forced into exile. His literary work, spanning poetry, fiction, theatre, and essay writing, emerges from lived experience but he consistently transcends the personal to speak from a collective, humanist perspective. His writing has been described as testimonial, yet deeply lyrical, combining historical consciousness with powerful ethical and imaginative force.

Gustavo Gac-Artigas has published extensively in Latin America, Europe, and the United States, and his work has been translated into English, French, Italian, and Romanian. In recent years, his poetry has received international recognition and has been featured in journals, anthologies, festivals, and academic contexts concerned with memory, resistance, and the role of the reader in constructing meaning. In 2023, he was honoured at the XVII Hispanic/Latino International Book Fair of Queens, New York.

The year 2025 marked a significant moment in his professional life. Among the milestones worth highlighting: in August, he received the highest distinction awarded by the Academia Tomitana and Academia Universalis Poetarum, Le Coq (Cocoșul)—a reproduction of a sculpture by Brâncuși—in recognition of his literary career and international stature; between October and November, he undertook an extensive tour in Spain to promote one of his poetry collections published by Valparaíso Ediciones and to participate in the XXVIII Encuentro de Poetas Iberoamericanos in Salamanca directed by Peruvian poet Alfredo Pérez-Alencart. Later that same year, americanpoet.org featured him on its portal under “Gustavo Gac-Artigas Poetry | Prominent American Poets.”

“Gustavo Gac-Artigas stands as one of the most compelling poetic voices to emerge from Latin America’s turbulent political history. His life has been defined by creativity, struggle, displacement, and an unwavering belief in the power of art. His poetry is not merely a form of expression; it is a testimony—an archive of memory, resistance, and humanity. Ultimately, Gustavo Gac-Artigas’ literary legacy lies in his courage to transform suffering into beauty. His life teaches us that exile cannot erase identity, nor can oppression extinguish creativity. Through his poetry, he continues to remind us that art has the power to heal, to resist, and to keep the truth alive.”

— americanpoet.org, December 2025

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for years i wrote about my people

(Translation by Priscilla Gac-Artigas)

for years i wrote about my people
my people
those from below
the humiliated for existing without asking permission
the homeless
the roofless
those who wore out the stars from gazing at them so long

those from below
my people
wanderers with no path
feet shod in worn-out ojotas

las mías—the women of my people
those raped in their own rooms
those raped on the road toward a better future

a better future?
simply a present in which to exist
las mías
denied even the right to gaze at the stars

my people
those who died
without a single tear shed for them

my people
flesh for mass graves
flesh for wild beasts
flesh for oblivion

for years i wrote about my people

today i ask myself
did i ever give my people a face?
a face to the women of my people?

a single face
one that might allow them to exist
to exist
and not disappear into the masses

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durante años escribí sobre los míos

durante años escribí sobre los míos

los míos
los de abajo
los humillados por existir sin pedir permiso
los sin casa
los sintecho
aquellos que gastaron las estrellas de tanto mirarlas

los de abajo
los míos caminantes sin camino
calzados de cansadas ojotas

las mías
las violadas en sus aposentos
las violadas en el camino hacia un mejor futuro

¿mejor futuro?
simplemente un existir en el presente

las mías
que hasta el derecho a mirar las estrellas les negaron

los míos
aquellos que murieron
sin que una lágrima por ellos se derramara

los míos
carne de fosas comunes carne de fieras salvajes
carne del olvido

durante años escribí sobre los míos

hoy me pregunto
¿alguna vez puse un rostro a los míos?
¿a las mías?

un solo rostro
uno que les permitiera existir
existir
y no desaparecer en la masa

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i had to be correct

(Translation by Priscilla Gac-Artigas)

i had to be correct

politically correct
so they would let me integrate into society
not be myself
just integrate
which is not the same

they pointed out “the other”
they warned me of crucifixion
of ostracism
of indifference
of knives in the back

of scandal
and public scorn
of silence—
that deafening silence that surrounds me

the imposed laws demand i be politically correct

and yet i want to be incorrect
i rebel against correctness
i feel that when they say
respect “the other” it is a humanitarian handout
it cements a divided society

it forces me to accept as normal
that “the other” is me

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tenía que ser correcto

tenía que ser correcto

políticamente correcto
para que me dejaran integrarme a la sociedad
no ser yo
integrarme
lo que no es lo mismo

me señalaron a “el otro”
me advirtieron de la crucifixión del ostracismo
de la indiferencia
de las puñaladas en la espalda

del escándalo
y el escarnio público
del silencio
ese silencio atronador que me rodea

las leyes impuestas me exigen ser
políticamente correcto

y sin embargo quiero ser incorrecto
me rebelo contra la corrección
siento que cuando dicen
respetar a “el otro” es una limosna humanitaria
es cimentar una sociedad dividida

es hacerme aceptar que es normal
que “el otro” sea yo

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prayer for someone unknown

(Translation by Priscilla Gac-Artigas)

oh lord

there are no words left
there are no tears left

there is shame
there is helplessness
there is indignation

there is watching the crime be justified
the justification of brutality
the boasting of the fear
that runs through the streets
the homes
the schools

the fear of a child
of a girl
of an old man
of a teenager
all of them asking

why

the cold cannot freeze the scene
once again
once again
screams
the circle of death
the circle of agents concealing
the crime
the kicks
the brutality

shame
for those who still remain silent
and for the guilty silence of those responsible

they stained the country
they isolated human decency
if there ever was any

shame
for having once been afraid

shame
for having allowed to surface
the scum of humanity
for aligning themselves
with the scum of humanity

it is hard to take pride
it is hard to smile
blood spatters
the blood of the innocent
spatters
blood drapes its mantle
over the conscience of the country

“never again”
it is repeated
thinking that one day
that one day
peace will reign
the peace of human beings
and not the peace of the dead

that one day we will have an answer
to the question of the girl
of the child
of the old man
of the teenager
of the last human being

today i am minnesotan

tomorrow…
tomorrow…

pray for me
pray for us

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oración por un desconocido

oh señor

no quedan palabras
no quedan lágrimas

queda la vergüenza
queda la impotencia
queda la indignación

queda ver justificar el crimen
justificar la bestialidad
alardear del miedo
que recorre las calles
los hogares
las escuelas

el miedo de un niño
de una niña
de un anciano
de un adolescente
todos preguntándose

por qué

el frío no logra congelar la escena
una vez más
una vez más
gritos
el círculo de la muerte
el círculo de agentes ocultando
el crimen
las patadas
la bestialidad

vergüenza
por aquellos que aún guardan silencio
y por el silencio culpable de los responsables

ensuciaron el país
aislaron la bondad
si es que alguna vez la hubo

vergüenza
por lo que alguna vez se tuvo miedo

vergüenza
por lo que permitieron aflorar
la escoria de la humanidad
por lo que se alinean
con la escoria de la humanidad

cuesta estar orgulloso
cuesta sonreír
la sangre salpica
la sangre de la inocente
salpica
la sangre cubre con su manto
la conciencia del país

nunca más
se repite
pensando que algún día
que algún día
reinará la paz
la del ser humano
y no la paz de los muertos

que algún día tendremos la respuesta
a la pregunta de la niña
del niño
del anciano
del adolescente
del último ser humano

hoy soy minesotano

mañana…
mañana…

ruega por mí
ruega por nosotros

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THE NEW GAZA

(Translation by Priscilla Gac-Artigas)

a dreamed-of city
tourist apartments

a strip of leisure
of repose
of luxury that insults

the new Gaza
built on the blood
of Palestinian girls
of Palestinian boys

on humanity’s disgrace

the new Gaza
every window will be a blindfold
to hide the crime

at sea
the sound of the waves
will drown out the cry of pain
of a girl
of a boy
as they die in Gaza

industries will be built
the surviving skeletons
will be brought there to die

a millionaire will laugh
in the new gaza
in this new world

that world which is not my world
built on the dead

who “are” my dead

in this new
old world

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LA NUEVA GAZA

una ciudad soñada
departamentos turísticos

franja del descanso
del reposo
del lujo que insulta

la nueva Gaza
construida sobre la sangre
de las niñas palestinas
de los niños palestinos

sobre la vergüenza de la humanidad

la nueva Gaza
cada ventana será una venda
para ocultar el horror

en el mar
el ruido de las olas
tapará el grito de dolor
de una niña
de un niño
al morir en Gaza

se construirán industrias
los esqueletos sobrevivientes
vendrán a morir en ellas

un millonario reirá
en la nueva gaza
en este nuevo mundo

ese mundo que no es mi mundo
sobre los muertos

que sí son mis muertos

en este nuevo
viejo mundo

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in memoriam

(Translation by Priscilla Gac-Artigas)

there are days when i am ashamed of being a man
i once wrote
there are days when i am ashamed
that time seems to stand still
in infamy
in fear
in pain
in arrogance

there are days when the pack is unleashed
to hunt brown children
oh what shall we do
oh what shall we do

and woe to the one
to the one
who tries to stop the hunt

ice bullets are guided by ideology
beyond nationality
beyond skin color
beyond human reason

they are guided by rage
hatred
impunity
contempt for the other human being

oh what shall we do
oh what shall we do

the list keeps growing

the mantle of power
of lies
protects hatred
the murderous hand

there are days when i am ashamed of being a man
today is one of them

in memoriam of renee nicole good

in memoriam?
NO!
a cry
so that never again
never again
we remain silent before the beasts
so that fear does not invade us

so that hatred does not rule us
we will not be silent
we will face the jackal
that is what we will do
that is what we will do

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in memoriam

hay días en que me avergüenzo de ser hombre
escribí alguna vez
hay días en que me avergüenzo de que el tiempo pareciera detenerse en la infamia
en el miedo
en el dolor
en la prepotencia

hay días en que la jauría fue soltada para cazar niños morenos
ay qué haremos
ay qué haremos

y pobre de aquel,
de aquella
que intente detener la cacería

las balas de ice las dirige la ideología
más allá de la nacionalidad
más allá del color de la piel
más allá de la razón humana

las dirige la rabia
el odio
la impunidad
el desprecio por el otro ser humano

ay qué haremos
ay qué haremos

la lista crece

el manto del poder
de la mentira
protege al odio
a la mano asesina

hay días en que me avergüenzo de ser hombre
hoy es uno de ellos

in memoriam de renee nicole good

¿in memoriam?
¡NO!
en grito
para que nunca más
nunca más
callemos frente a las bestias
para que el miedo no nos invada

para que el odio no nos gobierne
no callaremos
enfrentaremos al chacal
eso haremos
eso haremos

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Priscilla Gac-Artigas, the translator of Gustavo Gac-Artigas is a PhD Fulbright Scholar, Professor Emerita of World Languages at Monmouth University, NJ, Member of the North American Academy of the Spanish Language (ANLE), Corresponding Member of the Royal Spanish Academy (RAE), Member of Academia Tomitana & Academia Universalis Poetarum, Constanza, Cultural Ambassador of Fondation Européenne & the Académie Internationale Mihai Eminescu.