morel-theme 0.1.31 → 0.2.1

data/assets/data/books_zotero.csv

@@ -0,0 +1,82 @@
+"Id","Item Type","Publication Year","Author","Title","Publication Title","ISBN","ISSN","DOI","Download","Abstract Note","Date","Date Added","Date Modified","Access Date","Pages","Num Pages","Issue","Volume","Number Of Volumes","Journal Abbreviation","Short Title","Series","Series Number","Series Text","Series Title","Publisher","Place","Language","Rights","Type","Archive","Archive Location","Library","Call Number","Extra","Notes","Cover","Link Attachments","Manual Tags","Automatic Tags","Editor","Series Editor","Translator","Contributor","Attorney Agent","Book Author","Cast Member","Commenter","Composer","Cosponsor","Counsel","Interviewer","Producer","Recipient","Reviewed Author","Scriptwriter","Words By","Guest","Number","Edition","Running Time","Scale","Medium","Artwork Size","Filing Date","Application Number","Assignee","Issuing Authority","Country","Meeting Name","Conference Name","Court","References","Reporter","Legal Status","Priority Numbers","Programming Language","Version","System","Code","Code Number","Section","Session","Committee","History","Legislative Body"
+"HWUHIB4L","book","1898","Sousa, Cruz e","Evocações","","","","","https://ia802607.us.archive.org/12/items/3345231/3345231.pdf","","1898","2022-05-11 15:54:04","2022-05-20 20:06:17","","","406","","","","","","","","","","Typ. Aldina","Rio de Janeiro","pt","","","University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign","https://archive.org/details/university_of_illinois_urbana-champaign","https://www.worldcat.org/title/evocaes/oclc/1194102158?referer=br&ht=edition","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>N'aquella hora tremenda, grande hora solemne na qual se ia iniciar outra nova vida, foi para mim uma sensibilidade original, um soffrimento nunca sentido, que me desprendia da terra, que me exhilaba do mundo, tal era o choque violento dos meus nervos nesse momento, tal a delicada e curiosa impressão da minh'alma n'esse transe supremo.</p> <p>Ella, abalada por gemidos, na dôr que a dilacerava, quasi desfallecia, com a mais rara expressão raysteriosa nos grandes olhos, os lábios lividos, o semblante de uma contemplatividade de martyrio, transfigurada já pela angustia sagrada d'aquella hora, no instante augusto da Maternidade.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/YBGYXZYL/evocacoes.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1898","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"WFXITK8T","book","1908","Assis, Machado de","Memorial de Ayres","","","","","https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55797","","1908","2022-05-11 15:08:45","2022-05-20 20:05:26","","","273","","","","","","","","","","H. Garnier","Rio de Janeiro / Paris","pt","","","Project Gutenberg","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/memorial-de-ayres/oclc/1300944285&referer=brief_results","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Nesse momento, a viuva descruzava as mãos, e fazia gesto de ir embora. Primeiramente espraiou os olhos, como a ver se estava só. Talvez quizesse beijar a sepultura, o proprio nome do marido, mas havia gente perto, sem contar dous coveiros que levavam um regador e uma enxada, e iam falando de um enterro daquella manhã. Falavam alto, e um escarnecia do outro, em voz grossa: «Eras capaz de levar um daquelles ao morro? Só se fossem quatro como tu.» Tratavam de caixão pezado, naturalmente, mas eu voltei depressa a atenção para a viuva, que se afastava e caminhava lentamente, sem mais olhar para traz. Encoberto por um mausoleu, não a pude ver mais nem melhor que a principio. Ella foi descendo até o portão, onde passava um bonde em que entrou e partiu. Nós descemos depois e viemos no outro.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/BNJZ25EK/memorial_ayres_machado.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1908","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"DJIXBXIE","book","1943","Sojo, Juan Pablo","Nochebuena negra","","978-980-01-2074-3","","","https://bibliotecadigital.bnv.gob.ve/wp-content/uploads/nochebuena_negra.pdf","","1943","2022-05-11 00:34:35","2022-05-20 20:01:54","","","","","","","","","","","","","General Rafael Urdaneta","Caracas","spa","","","Biblioteca Digital César Rengifo","https://bibliotecadigital.bnv.gob.ve","https://www.worldcat.org/title/nochebuena-negra-novela/oclc/16396635?referer=di&ht=edition","","Venezuela","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>En la mañana siguiente, mientras las mujeres vaciaban cacao en baba en los alijos que lo bajarían hacia el paso, Crisanto contó a Lino, Emeterio y a cuantos pudieron escucharlo, la noble acción del doctor Goyo... Un indio retaco, fornido, que sacaba filo en el mollejón, escuchaba la historia y sonrió. Lino se fijó en su risa. El indio era algo capachero; tenía pocos días en Pozo Frío y era casi un extraño. Había sido caporal en una hacienda del médico, y él solo sabía de qué se estaba riendo. De la hacienda se vino huido, después de cruzar el Tuy a nado y aparecerse en el rancho de Lino. Se llamaba Guaraco y era hermano de Juana, la mujer de él. Por allí anduvo la “Comisión”, pero en cuatro días no lo hallaron.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/86DTQ8GM/nochebuena_negra.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1943","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"5LYC395R","book","1954","Estupiñán Bass, Nelson","Cuando los guayacanes florecían","","","","","","","1954","2022-05-10 21:00:13","2022-05-20 19:56:59","","","","","","","","","","","","","Casa de la Cultura Ecuatoriana","Quito","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cuando-los-guayacanes-florecian/oclc/253770281?referer=di&ht=edition","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>En una esquina del dormitorio, con la cabeza entre las manos, sentado al borde de su cama de madera, y retardado en el arreglo de su equipo, Gabriel Simbaña, indio metido a soldado de línea por el afán de salir de su aldea de la Sierra y no vivir la vida miserable de los otros, lloraba desconsoladamente. Recordaba que se había enrolado en el ejército, porque no quiso seguir la suerte de su padre, envejecido en la hacienda, casi desnudo y sin alcanzar a pagar jamás la cuenta al patrón. Recordaba el dolor que había sentido, --ah, cómo iba a poder olvidarlo!,-- cuando había visto que el látigo inclemente del patrón abría surcos de sangre en la espalda agobiada del viejo, aquel día que el mayordomo descubrió que su padre se había hurtado un saco de maíz. Fue en ese invierno duro y penoso, en que el hambre parecía haberse puesto de acuerdo con el patrón para hacer más amarga la vida de los indios. Recordaba ese loco anhelo de venir a la Costa, de vivir en una &nbsp;tierra distante, a donde no pudiera llegar el látigo ensangrentado del patrón.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/I5TG9EA5/guacayanes.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1954","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"CBQTEPIH","book","1979","Pedroso, Regino","Sólo acero","","","","","","","1979","2022-05-10 20:52:31","2022-05-20 19:54:23","","","","","","","","","","","","","Letras Cubanas","La Habana","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/solo-acero/oclc/17078423&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Mark era un negro jamaiquino que en la gran guerra había estado en Europa defendiendo la libertad y la civilización del mundo bajo la bandera de Inglaterra. De ella, por los efectos de las granadas y los gases, trajo lesionado un pulmón y una sordera cada vez más dormida, que los médicos no sabían cómo curar Y ahora siendo ya inútil para su patria, había venido a Cuba, y aquí trabajaba unas veces como mecánico y otras veces como electricista. Todos lo queríamos mucho. Era inteligente y bondadoso, nos contaba bellos relatos negros de Jamaica y cosas endiabladas de las trincheras.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/KGVQZU8E/acero.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1979","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"VHJI7BM2","book","1959","Beleño C., Joaquín","Gamboa road gang: (los forzados de Gamboa)","","","","","","","1959","2022-05-10 18:28:20","2022-05-20 19:53:43","","","","","","","","Gamboa road gang","","","","","Ministerio de Educación, Departamento de Bellas Artes y Publicaciones","Ciudad de Panamá","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/gamboa-road-gang-los-forzados-de-gamboa/oclc/912933448?referer=br&ht=edition","","Panamá","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>La carretera es el cementerio porque aun sus arenas están hechas de los huesos roídos por las olas de todos los peces que viajaron por las profundidades marinas y reposaron largo tiempo en el polvo calcáreo de la orilla.</p> <p>Para unos, la carretera es la civilización y el progreso, para mí es el sepulcro donde claudica para siempre el hambre voraz de toda esta fauna que sale de las montañas para enfrentarse a la civilización moderna. Es la culebra, de movimiento peristáltico y la colibrí de nervioso aletear. Es el hombre y el perro. Y si ello es así, ¿quién soy yo para desafiar con mis lentos movimientos el curso de los vehículos? ¿Quién soy yo para osar cruzar este sólido cementerio en donde todos los dpias mueren miles y miles de seres? Mueren tiernos celebrados por todos los gallotes que giran en el cielo.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/INJ4M2SN/gamboa.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1959","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"LMS3JB96","book","1996","Pedroso, Regino","Poesía","","978-959-209-137-5","","","","","1996","2022-05-10 18:07:02","2022-05-20 19:52:36","","","","","","","","","","","","","Ediciones Unión","La Habana","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/poesia/oclc/38207936&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Todos recordamos qué fuiste entre nosotros.</p> <p>Pero el patrón obeso que desangró tu vida</p> <p>en hemorragia de sudor,</p> <p>aún ignora que amaste, que sufriste y moriste;</p> <p>pues aunque todos somos máquinas de producción,</p> <p>él sólo ama las de acero,</p> <p>hechas en Chicago o en Glasgow.</p> <p></p> <p>Ahora ocupo tu puesto junto a la máquina:</p> <p>esmerilo las válvulas,</p> <p>reviso los pistones,</p> <p>como tú engraso el émbbolo, los vástagos, las bielas,</p> <p>y siempre atento al reloj,</p> <p>mi corazón frente a la vida</p> <p>se mecaniza igual que otro reloj.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/W8DFBZVX/poesia.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1996","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"435CQ6VN","book","1966","Arozarena, Marcelino","Cancion negra sin color.","","","","","","","1966","2022-05-10 16:49:26","2022-05-20 19:51:52","","","","","","","","","","","","","Cuadernos Unión","La Habana","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cancion-negra-sin-color/oclc/778125076&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>El fandango</p> <p>de gran rango,</p> <p>que anda en grillo</p> <p>por el trillo tartamudo de vegetal castañuela</p> <p>--eco en fleco;</p> <p> &nbsp; cruz y espuela--</p> <p>es la rumba rimbombante que brina con desespero</p> <p>en los ceros majaderos del bongo.</p> <p></p> <p>Pacatá.</p> <p>Tacatá.</p> <p>Pacatacatacatá.</p> <p>¡Olé! ¡Alsá!</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/KG2U9AAT/color.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1966","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"AFC996BH","book","1975","Manzano, Juan Francisco; Schulman, Iván A","Autobiografía de un esclavo (moderniziada)","","978-84-250-0186-4","","","","","1975","2022-05-09 17:20:33","2022-05-20 19:51:23","","","","","","","","Autobiograf?","","","","","Guadarrama","Madrid","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/autobiografia-de-un-esclavo/oclc/462770861&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Era un lugar tan soturno como apartado de la casa, en un traspetio junto a una caballeriza y junto a un apestoso y evaporante basurero, contiguo a un lugar común tan infestado como húmedo y siempre pestífero, separado de él sólo por unas paredes, todas agujereadas, guarida de deformes ratas que sin cesar me pasaban por encima. Yo que tenía la cabeza llena de cuentos de cosas malas de otros tiempos, de las almas aparecidas aquí de la otra vida, y de los encantamientos de los muertos, cuando salía un tropel de ratas haciendio ruido me parecía que estaba aquel sótano lleno de fantasmas.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/ZMY69GAS/autobiografia.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1975","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"IQG47SVA","book","2004","Durán Ayanegui, Fernando","Cuentos y relatos escogidos","","978-9977-23-788-6","","","","","2004","2022-05-09 16:56:23","2022-05-20 19:50:36","","","","","","","","Cuentos y relatos escogidos de Fernando Durán Ayanegui","","","","","Editorial Costa Rica","San José, Costa Rica","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cuentos-y-relatos-escogidos-de-fernando-duran-ayanegui/oclc/470282274&referer=brief_results","","Costa Rica","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Como casi todo en mi niñez, esto aconteció en Alajuela y no puedo adivinar qué alimento o qué dolencia provocó la diarrea de mi pariente. Pero lo cierto es que, por hallarse cerca de ahí &nbsp;en el momento del apuro, se vio obligado a pedir permiso para utilizar, aquella tarde de julio de 1950, el excusado de mi casa. Como era lo común entonces, esa íntima facilidad estaba situada en el fondo del patio, y la frugalidad de la época hacía del papel higiénico algo suntuoso, que los pobres sustituíamos con hojas de diarios atrasados, meticulosamente recortadas en cuatro de modo que en el ventilado cubículo siempre había un grueso gancho de alambre del que colgaba un rimero de trozos de papel periódico.</p> <p>(…)</p> <p>--Negra, yo creo que esto le puede servir al negrito.</p> <p>El “negrito” lo era yo por cuenta de mi tatarabuelo africano que fue esclavo cortador de caña en Jamaica, y no estando para mí claro en aquel momento de dónde había sacado Daniel lo que a su juicio me habría de ser útil, di rienda suelta a mi curiosidad y me desenjaboné tan rápidamente como pude. Cuando salí del baño ya Daniel había partido, pero ahí estaba mi madre leyendo con interés un pedazo de papel periódico que me tendió de inmediato:</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/BUICT9IR/cuentos-duran.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2004","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"E4DIZSEQ","book","1995","Russell, Carlos E","An old woman remembers","","978-1-878433-20-6","","","","","1995","2022-04-28 19:25:33","2022-05-20 19:41:23","","","","","","","","An old woman remembers--: the recollected history of West Indians in Panama, 1855-1955 : a prose-poetry monologue","","","","","Caribbean Diaspora Press","New York","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/old-woman-remembers-the-recollected-history-of-west-indians-in-panama-1855-1955-a-prose-poetry-monologue/oclc/37684774&referer=brief_results","","Panamá","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Them had a system.</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">Them was on Gold Roll,</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1""> &nbsp;we was on Silver Roll.</p> <p>Gold was better than Silver.</p> <p>Everything was separated.</p> <p>Them had gold clubhouses.</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">We had silver clubhouses.</p> <p>And so on and on it went.</p> <p>The only time we had gold,</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">was when we put it in we mouth.</p> <p style=""padding-left: 80px"" data-indent=""2"">You know,</p> <p style=""padding-left: 120px"" data-indent=""3"">to have gold teeth…</p> <p>Strange… white people use silver, not gold…</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">I guess them was cheap.</p> <p>Black policeman couldn’t arrest white people.</p> <p>A Black man was a janitor,</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">a white man a maintenance engineer.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/RAPH4RQ8/old-woman.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1995","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"52NJ4GHR","book","1923","Hernández, Gaspar Octavio","La copa de amatista","","","","","https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/006504457","","1923","2022-04-28 18:45:18","2022-05-20 19:39:50","2022-04-28 18:45:18","","99","","","","","","","","","","Imprenta nacional de Panamá","Panamá","spa","","","HathiTrust","http://hathitrust.org","https://www.worldcat.org/title/copa-de-amatista/oclc/776469886&referer=brief_results","","Panamá","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p></p> <p>Ni tez de nácar, ni cabellos de oro<br>veréis ornar de galas mi figura;<br>ni la luz del zafir , celeste y pura,<br>veréis que en mis pupilas atesoro.</p> <p><br>Con piel tostada de atezado moro ;<br>con ojos negros de fatal negrura,<br>del Ancón a la falda verde oscura<br>nací frente al Pacífico sonoro.</p> <p><br>Soy un hijo del Mar…. Porque en mi alma<br>hay,--como sobre el mar,-- noches de calma,<br>indefinibles cóleras sin nombre<br>y un afán de luchar conmigo mismo ,<br>cuando en penas recónditas me abismo<br>pienso que soy un mar trocado en hombre!</p> <p>1915.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/MG6UXRAM/uc1._b253439-seq_9.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1923","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"DXREIGPK","book","1916","Hernández, Gaspar Octavio","Iconografía","","","","","https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100794669","","1916","2022-04-28 18:33:45","2022-05-20 19:38:55","2022-04-28 18:33:44","","","","","","","","","","","","R.P. Imprenta  «Esto y aquello»","Panamá","spa","","","HathiTrust","http://hathitrust.org","https://www.worldcat.org/title/iconografia/oclc/923785729&referer=brief_results","","Panamá","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Malas pinceladas, contornos mal diseñados, demasía de sombra o demasía de luz, veréis en los lienzos de esta paupérrima icnonografía; mas veréis también, que esos defectos de técnica, esas violentas incorrecciones pictóricas, hijos son de la vehemencia con que obró la mano, febril de loco entusiasmo o de intensa amargura.</p> <p>En medios como el nuestro --,donde los que --llevados de persistente necesidad interior-- se dedican a la cultura de la belleza, teniendo a la vez, que consumir grandes caudales de energía en labores de suyo antiliterarias; en medios como el nuestro --donde el público --sobre todo el público que a sí mismo se llama letrado-- deja morir de inanición diarios y revistas en el sórdido y frío muladar de la general indiferencia; en medios como este, digo, no se puede laborar con detenimiento, en el bosquejo de un cuadro; en la reproducción de un retrato; en el pulimiento de un mármol. </p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/TQYEQPMV/iconografia.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1016","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"V3AL6LXN","book","1971","Duncan, Quince","Hombres curtidos","","","","","","","1971","2022-04-11 15:28:31","2022-05-20 19:38:10","","","","","","","","","","","","","Cuadernos de Arte Popular","San Jose, Costa Rica","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/hombres-curtidos/oclc/894427244&referer=brief_results","","Costa Rica","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Mi esposa contempla el caserío en silencio. Se le ve en los ojos que aún duda sobre la causa de mi retorno. Nadie lo sabe, tal vez ni yo mismo lo sé.</p> <p>Los amigos de la capital no me perdonarán nunca el haber dejado la gran ciudad, la vida rápida de la élite artística que nuestra generación trata de crear. Los discursos sobre el ultra-literatura, arte, el servicio del hombre, todo, todo eso y las otras cosas que la vida urbana involucra.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/DRNXQTNQ/hombres-curtidos.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1971","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"CILADSAS","book","1996","Chiriboga, Luz Argentina; Harris, Mary A.","Drums under my Skin","","978-0-939423-04-0","","","","","1996","2022-04-28 11:26:26","2022-05-20 19:37:43","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Afro-Hispanic Institute","Washington, D.C.","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/drums-under-my-skin/oclc/36720486&referer=brief_results","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>My coastal accent caught the attention of women dozing int heir seats, who hid their curiosity by pretending they were arranging packages. At that hour, a general exhaustion induced &nbsp;sleep. I was alone, and imaginary fears crowded my mind. Why had God lost his power to create life and movement at that moment? I heard my mother’s voice again with her “Behave yourself,” which turned into doubts, suspicions, omens, and more precisely, into fears. At te door od the bus station, a man in blue jeans was awaiting the departure of the bus that would take us to Quito. His cap caught my eye, and I could tell from his boots that he had come a long way. I couldn’t see his face as he went up to an etching of an Andean landscape of the wall. It was cold, and so he sank his hands into the pockets of his jacket.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/8YHLYRIT/drums.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1996","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"CVHTD2HG","book","1982","Ortiz, Adalberto","Juyungo","","","","","","","1982","2022-04-28 11:23:03","2022-05-20 19:37:07","","","","","","","","","","","","","Salvat","Navarra, España","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/search?q=juyungo&qt=owc_search","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Don Valerio Verduga Barberán pasóse los dedos a modo de peinilla por entre los desgreñados cabellos sin brillo, y se lo puso que era un mosquitero de fina gasa la llovizna que caía aquella mañana sobre la aldea de Santo Domingo de los Colorados. Dejó correr la vista por encima de los techos pajizos que, frente a su casa de cinc, chorreaban lacios cual pelambreras cholas, y recordó que los gallinazos graves, estaban como diciendo: “mañana hago mi casa, mañana hago mi casa”.</p> <p>Hasta los tímpanos llegaba el estero rumoroso de cristalino caudal, culebreante entre las malezas, de donde mujeres desaliñadas y agenciosasm acarreaban agua en sendos calabazos, mientras niños y adolescentes verdosos como la pulpa de las papayas tiernas, jugaban a los cocos y a las bolas de cristal, debajo de las casuchas que escasamente rodeaban la desmantelada plaza, alfombrada de montes y hierbajos; rasgada en su trémulo y húmedo verdor mojado, por las heridas diagonales de los senderitos familiares.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/8LE4U9EP/juyungo.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1943","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"JRVGSDG9","book","1991","Ortiz, Adalberto; Hill, Susan F.","Juyungo: a classic Afro-Hispanic novel","","978-0-08-941091-4","","","","","1991","2022-04-28 11:22:55","2022-05-20 19:36:13","","","","","","","","Juyungo","tr","","","","Three Continent Press","Washington, D.C.","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/juyungo-a-classic-afro-hispanic-novel/oclc/38370178&referer=brief_results","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Don Valerio Verduga Barberán combed his fingers through his dull, disheveled hair, and it seemed to him that the mist falling that morning on the village of Santo Domingo de los Colorados was a fine-gauze mosquito netting. He let his gaze run over the straw roofs which, across from his house of zinc, streamed straight as Indian hair. They reminded him of the grave and silent vultures which flapped their black, open wings, as if to say: ‘Tomorrow I make a home, tomorrow I make a home’.</p> <p>The noisy overflow of the crystalline torrent reached his ears. It snaked through the underbrush, from where unkempt and diligent women, each with a gourd, carried water, Meanwhile, children and adolescents, greenish as the pulp of tender papayas, played with coconuts and glass marbles beneath the hovels that partially surrounded the dilapidated square. The plaza was carpeted with brush and weeds, and rent, in its tremulous and humid verdor, by the diagonal wounds of the familiar little paths.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/BHLMPDX7/juyungo-eng.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1982","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"3GVE3HJC","book","1995","Cartagena Portalatón, Aída; Fenwick, M. J.","Yania tierra: poema documento = document poem","","978-0-9632363-9-5","","","","","1995","2022-04-28 10:46:59","2022-05-20 19:35:32","","","","","","","","Yania tierra","tr","","","","Azul","Washington, D.C.","spa;eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/yania-tierra-poema-documento-document-poem/oclc/813737080&referer=brief_results","","República Dominicana","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>CIERTO / Perdí el viejo juego de los versos</p> <p>Deseo conversar de otra manera</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">cuando la Zarza Ardiente</p> <p>Se quebranta bajo continuos aguaceros</p> <p>Con todo el dolor de una muerte</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">concebida</p> <p>Quién sería como Dios en la tierra</p> <p>Para soportar tanto silencio</p> <p>Si los testigos de estas letras nuevas</p> <p>Desean secuestrar la libertad de la palabra</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">Cotidiana</p> <p>Que traspasa tu cuerpo Yania Tierra</p> <p>***</p> <p>Traspasada / llegaría / llegó de repente</p> <p>La muerte desnuda / sin la ropa</p> <p>¡Qué noche calurosa!</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/BIWXF7P5/yania-tierra.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"JDWW5Z5X","book","1968","Guillén, Nicolás","Tengo","","","","","","","1968","2022-04-24 01:05:57","2022-05-20 19:34:35","","","","","","","","","","","","","El Siglo Ilustrado","Montevideo","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/tengo/oclc/4731700&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Tengo, vamos a ver,</p> <p>que siendo un negro</p> <p>nadie me puede detener</p> <p>a la puerta de un dancing o de un bar.</p> <p>O bien en la carpeta de un hotel</p> <p>gritarme que no hay pieza,</p> <p>una mínima pieza y no una pieza colosal,</p> <p>una pequeña pieza donde yo pueda descansar.</p> <p></p> <p>Tengo, vamos a ver,</p> <p>que no hay guardia rural</p> <p>que me agarre y me encierre en un cuartel,</p> <p>ni me arranque y me arroje de mi tierra</p> <p>al medio del camino real.</p> <p></p> <p>Tengo que como tengo la tierra tengo el mar,</p> <p>no country, no jailáif,</p> <p>no tenis y no yacht,</p> <p>sino de playa en playa y ola en ola,</p> <p>gigante azul abierto democrático:</p> <p>en fin, el mar.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/E23WXRUA/tengo.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1964","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"8V8VIBDX","book","1974","Guillén, Nicolás; Carr, Richard J.","Tengo","","978-0-910296-28-1 978-0-910296-29-8","","","http://archive.org/details/tengo0000guil","","1974","2022-04-24 00:56:24","2022-05-20 19:33:49","2022-04-24 00:56:24","","154","","","","","","tr","","","","Broadside Press","Detroit,  EEUU","eng","","","Kahle/Austin Foundation","https://archive.org/details/kahleaustinfoundation","https://www.worldcat.org/title/tengo-translated-by-richard-j-carr/oclc/880775590&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>I have, just wait and see,</p> <p>that being black and all</p> <p>no one stopping me</p> <p>as bar or dance hall guest</p> <p>or treading the carpet of a hotel,</p> <p>shouting that there's no bed,</p> <p>no minimal cell and no colossal cell,</p> <p>no little cell where I might take my rest.</p> <p></p> <p>I have, just wait and see,</p> <p>freedom from the rural overseer</p> <p>who straps me up and puts me in a jail</p> <p>or drags my body from its native shed</p> <p>down the royal highway's helpless trail.</p> <p></p> <p>I have the land as well as I've the sea,</p> <p>no country,</p> <p>no high-life,</p> <p>no tennis and no yacht,</p> <p>but beach to endless waves and waves to beach,</p> <p>blue and naked giant of democracy:</p> <p>in short, the sea.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/RQ4JLZJ9/guillen-tengo-english.png","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1974","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"9PN3B3A8","book","1996","Herrera, Georgina; Rodríguez-Alcalá, María; Cordones-Cook, Juanamaría; Cordones Cook, Alexander Michael","Always rebellious: selected poems = Cimarroneando: poemas escogidos","","978-0-9827860-6-2","","","http://archive.org/details/alwaysrebellious0000herr","","1996","2022-04-24 00:30:59","2022-05-20 19:32:39","2022-04-24 00:30:59","","176","","","","","Always rebellious","tr","","","","Cubanabooks","Chico, EEUU","spa;eng","","","Internet Archive","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/always-rebellious-selected-poems/oclc/894938169&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>While in the womb</p> <p>of my mother, every</p> <p>now and then, in the midst</p> <p>of the _wemilere_ splendor,</p> <p>the old Oweni spoke</p> <p>through the thick thump thump of the drum.</p> <p>His hoarse voice was heard</p> <p>filled with many longings;</p> <p>claiming,</p> <p>urging his return. Desolated,</p> <p>the fields had become, the grass.</p> <p>How desperate the hunger of the wild beasts!</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/EJZ5KSMH/allways-rebellious.jpg","","","Herrera, Georgina -- Translations into English","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1996","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"3RA9FP3E","book","2019","Duncan, Quince","Cuentos de Anansi","","","","","https://www.mep.go.cr/sites/default/files/documentos/cuentos-anansi.pdf","","2019","2022-04-11 14:55:19","2022-05-20 19:30:00","2022-04-11 14:55:19","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Educación Pública","San José, Costa Rica","spa","","","Ministerio de Educación Pública","https://www.mep.go.cr/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cuentos-de-jack-mantorra/oclc/948392067/editions?editionsView=true&referer=br","","Costa Rica","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Los cuentos que usted va a leer, vienen de muy lejos. Los cuenta Jack Mantorra, un viejecito que vino de Jamaica, aquella linda isla del Caribe, y vive en Limón<br>desde hace mucho tiempo. Porque Jack Mantorra es un negrito cuentero, que anda de pueblo en pueblo entreteniendo a la gente con sus extraños personajes.<br>Un gran viejecito cuentero, sí, que pasa el tiempo preocupado por los niños y los jóvenes.</p> <p><br>Jack Mantorra se basa para componer sus cuentos, en las tradiciones que heredó de su abuelito, que era un africano. De ahí vienen algunas de las historias. Otros nombres y otros relatos, vienen del Caribe de donde es el negrito cuentero, como hemos visto. Pero les aseguro que Jack no se queda con tantas cosas del pasado, sino que inventa cuentos para los niños y jóvenes de hoy.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/T7RDBRPQ/cuentos-anansi.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"HY5BWLI2","book","1995","Duncan, Quince; Martin-Ogunsola, Dellita","The best short stories of Quince Duncan","","978-9977-23-618-6","","","","","1995","2022-04-11 14:53:35","2022-05-20 17:20:17","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Editorial Costa Rica","San José, Costa Rica","spa;eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/best-short-stories-of-quince-ducan/oclc/1318451673&referer=brief_results","","Costa Rica","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Siempre con el mismo lodazal de ayer. Cada día y cada hora, los ojos llenos de agonía y las manos secas por tanta lucha, y total para nada. Y dicen que uno es vago, que no le gusta trabajar la tierra, y yo pregunto, ¿trabajar la tierra para qué? Total, la tierra no nos pertenece después de cincuenta años de trabajarla. Un día aparece el verdadero dueño: uno que no había nacido cuando papá dio en esos terrenos la primera machetada, y reclama la tierra y nos echa. Mejor trabajemos en el muelle. ¿Y trabajar en el muelle para qué? Día tras día con los callos vivos restregándose contra las callosidades muertas, como lumbre y ceniza la palma, cansada de producir riqueza para ninguno de los míos; el mundo tiene su particular estilo que nadie le quita porque es mug suyo, pues, a la verdad, así la hicieron y así se queda. De tal manera, entonces, condenación al infierno y jale.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/IXL4JV88/portadas_4-23-2022-historias-Duncan.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"VY6NRBN9","book","2013","Joseph Montout, Dolores","Tres relatos del Caribe costarricense (en inglés)","","978-9977-59-021-9","","","http://www.patrimonio.go.cr/biblioteca_digital/publicaciones/2013/tres_relatos_caribe.pdf","","2013","2022-04-10 23:32:32","2022-05-20 17:19:41","","","","","","","","Tres relatos del Caribe costarricense (en inglés)","tr","","","","Ministerio de Cultura, Juventud y Deportes","San José, Costa Rica","eng;spa","","","Centro de Investigación y Conservación del Patrimonio Cultural","http://www.patrimonio.go.cr/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/tres-relatos-del-caribe-costarricense-en-ingles/oclc/1142099575&referer=brief_results","","Costa Rica","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Jenny Wilkins boarded the bus at the first stop of Corales No. 1, Jenny Wilkings, a very loquacious old soul, very positive in her remarks, loud, very loud in speaking. Her head tied with a bright red hand-kerchief, as a neighbor a virago, always ready to voice her opinion, with interjections of strong adjectives.</p> <p>“Wat guine an Miss Manda”. She greeted Amanda, her friend.</p> <p>“Nat a ting. Guaing to town fi see wat me can by. Nat a ting in dese dam shaps in Corales”.</p> <p>“Youh no knaw. Dem people up here only open shap, and noting in the shap dem. Youh go fi buy rice, No hay, Sugar,<br>No hay, Sweet ail. No hay, Nat eben camman salt. As fi cigaret... Dont bather ask... Dem just fi close down the blasted pleace... A person run out a enyting, hab fi jump pan de bus, fi go to town... An de bus so frigging slow... Corales is one hell ob a pleace... “, concluded Amanda.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/CGDIC9GN/tres_relatos_caribe.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"R4S7GF4B","book","1869","Mendizábal, Horacio","Horas de meditación","","","","","https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/35/Horas_de_meditacion_-_Horacio_Mendizabal.pdf","","1869","2022-04-10 23:13:39","2022-05-20 17:18:53","","","","","","","","","","","","","Imprenta Buenos Aires","Buenos Aires","spa","","","Wikimedia Commons","https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Main_Page","https://www.worldcat.org/title/horas-de-meditacion/oclc/1160086329&referer=brief_results","","Argentina","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Estos versos son las íntimas sensaciones de mis instantes de dolor y melancolía ó mis débiles cantos de esperanza en el porvenir: algún grito de entusiasmo arrancado del amor á la libertad, un eco perdido que responde al movimiento de la revolución política y social que empieza á con­ mover las naciones de uno y otro continente.</p> <p>Al lamentar los funestos errores de la sociedad en que vivimos, para la que constituye un crimen nuestro color, al medir la separación de una y otra clase, el infortunio de la una y el orgullo de la otra, yo abandonaba esta atmósfera de corrupción, yendo á respirar el aire perfumado de nues­ tros campos floridos.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/TE66BEMG/Horas_de_meditacion_-_Horacio_Mendizabal.pdf.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1869","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"RAS6AX4R","book","1865","Mendizábal, Horacio","Primeros versos","","","","","https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/007371355","","1865","2022-04-10 22:50:33","2022-05-20 17:18:19","2022-04-10 22:50:33","","187","","","","","","","","","","Imp. de Buenos Aires","Buenos Aires","spa","","","HathiTrust","http://hathitrust.org","https://www.worldcat.org/title/primeros-versos-de-horacio-mendizabal/oclc/55249500&referer=brief_results","","Argentina","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>No pretendo, lector, que las pobres composiciones que te presento tengan algunas poesias; todo lo contrario, las juzgo solamente áridas y, quizá, imperfectas rimas; flores nacidas en frio y desolante páramo; tristes y raquíticas matas en medio del desierto—sin verdor, ni lozania—que carecen de la jentileza de la palma; pero que abundan en la monotonía de los estensos llanos.</p> <p>Así, lector, sé un tanto benigno al leer mis humildes versos. Hijos, algunos, del amor á la Patria y á la Libertad, otros lo son de mi pálida fantasia; quizá alguno fué inspirado por la virtud, quizá alguno por la melancolía. Mas en ninguna de mis composiciones encontrareis la fibra poética, el nervio natural de los sublimes soñadores; mi alma no se enciende en las llamas, do la quisiese ver fulgurar; no tengo una harpa.... carezco de una lira.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/N5LR6LY8/mendizabal-primeros-versos.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1865","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"5ZKYVD85","book","1990","Zapata Olivella, Juan","Historia de un joven negro novela","","978-958-14-0157-4","","","","","1990","2022-04-10 22:06:07","2022-05-20 17:17:49","","","","","","","","","","","","","Plaza & Janes","Bogotá","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/historia-de-un-joven-negro-novela/oclc/252810706&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Era lunes, y el capitán mortificado por el calor sofocante, se quejó de los apagones de energía eléctrica que mantenían sin servicio el aparato de aire acondicionado. La secretaria, joven y pelirroja, le recordó los compromisos del día: visitar el club de oficiales; acudir a la cita del comisariato de compras, almorzar en el casino militar y revisar con sumo cuidado el expediente del bachiller negro.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/6S9K45SJ/portadas_4-22-2022_historia-de-un.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1983","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"7CAPUDPI","book","2010","Zapata Olivella, Manuel; Tittler, Jonathan","Changó, the Biggest Badass","","","","","","","2010","2022-04-03 23:22:20","2022-05-20 17:17:16","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Texas Tech University Press","Texas","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/search?q=chango+the+biggest+badass&qt=owc_search","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Climb aboard this novel like so many million African prisoners on the slave ships; and feel free despite your chains.</p> <p>Take off your clothes!</p> <p>Whatever your race, culture, or class, don’t forget that the land where you tread is America, the New World, humanity’s new dawn. So become a child. If you find strange spirits ---in word, character, or plot---take them as a challenge to your imagination. Forget about academics, verb tenses, the boundaries between life and death, because in this saga there is no other trace than the one you leave behind: you are the prisoner, the discoverer, the founder, the liberator. </p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/A2RXMGJC/portadas_4-22-2022_chango.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2010","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"M8KQPN9M","book","2013","Panchano, Lucrecia; Posada de Pupo, Elisa; Mina Díaz, Ana Teresa; Ramírez Nieva, María Teresa; Grueso Romero, Mary; Posso Figueria, Amalia Lú; Truque, Sonia Nadhezda; Truque Vélez, Colombia; Córdoba, Jenny de la Torre; Duque Palacios, Sayly; Guerrrero, Julia Simona; Moreno Aguirre, Dionicia; López Hernández, Lydia Cristina; Valencia Córdoba, Elcina; Milena Lucumí, Ana; Bejarano Velásquez, Nidia Bejarano; Torres Herrera, Lorena; Popov, María de los Ángeles; Delgado Mina, Sobeida; Nerma Rojas, Nelly Patricia","¡Negras somos!: antología de 21 mujeres poetas afrocolombianas de la región pacífica","","978-958-8416-34-2","","","https://bibliotecadigital.univalle.edu.co/bitstream/handle/10893/20192/Negras_somos.pdf?sequence=1","","2013","2022-04-03 19:03:50","2022-05-20 17:16:34","","","","","","","","","","","","","Apidama","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Digital de la Universidad del Valle","https://biblioteca.univalle.edu.co/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/negras-somos-antologia-de-21-mujeres-poetas-afrocolombianas-de-la-region-pacifica/oclc/926615694&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>África grita</p> <p>En tu fisonomía, pelo y piel. África grita.</p> <p>Grita en la mezcolanza de la pigmentación,</p> <p>grita en el alma, allí donde lo noble de todo ser habita,</p> <p>y hace eco, en los vericuetos de la imaginación.</p> <p>África grita en las mil voces del ancestro</p> <p>como fuerza telúrica, estremece nuestro ser.</p> <p></p> <p>Grita todo lo suyo, que también es lo nuestro,</p> <p>en todos nuestros actos y nuestro quehacer.</p> <p>África grita, en todo aquello que significa vida</p> <p>y en el dolor sin nombre de siglos de opresión.</p> <p>África grita, en la esperanza y en la fe perdida</p> <p>y en las reconditeces de nuestro corazón.</p> <p></p> <p>África grita, no para inventariar un pasado infamante</p> <p>ni hacer recordatorios de humillante racismo.</p> <p>África grita, para impulsarnos a seguir adelante,</p> <p>para que nuestra identidad no se vaya al abismo.</p> <p>África grita en la sangre que corre por las venas</p> <p>y hace del corazón, lugar de confluencia.</p> <p></p> <p>Grita en nuestras alegrías, también en nuestras penas</p> <p>y releva en raíces, su física presencia.</p> <p>En todo cuanto existe y nuestro entorno agita</p> <p>África con vehemencia y sin ambages GRITA.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/I53ETMGH/Negras_somos.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2008","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"8EXDA9P9","book","1972","Artel, Jorge","Poemas con botas y banderas","","","","","","","1972","2022-04-03 18:56:16","2022-05-20 17:15:23","","","","","","","","","","","","","Ed. Mejoras","Barranquilla, Colombia","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/poemas-con-botas-y-banderas/oclc/253425662&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">Poemas</p> <p>escritos con lágrimas</p> <p>de un niño sin pan;</p> <p>con las manos podridas de un soldado</p> <p>que no volvió de la guerra;</p> <p>con el rencor de un negro</p> <p>linchado por las turbas del Sur;</p> <p>con las palabras de un obrero</p> <p>y la angustia de una patria encadenada,</p> <p>cumplid vuestro destino de los hombres:</p> <p>prendidos de sus labios,</p> <p>con el pulso de sus corazones,</p> <p>marcando el ritmo igual y firme de sus pasos,</p> <p>hacia la libertad.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/7SKSF8DJ/portadas_4-22-2022_poemas-botas.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"LNQGG366","book","1988","Ribeiro, Esmeralda","Malungos e milongas: (conto)","","","","","","","1988","2022-04-03 18:39:39","2022-05-20 17:15:19","","","","","","","","Malungos e milongas","","","","","Autoria Quilhombhoje","São Paulo","pt","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/malungos-e-milongas-conto/oclc/253633532&referer=brief_results","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Dona Irina, a faxineira da empresa, dava consultas espirituais para Ruth, de quinze em quinze dias à hora do almoço.</p> <p>A faxineira colocava um avental vermelho-sangue, trinta pulseiras--- quinze em cada braço --- e um anel de ouro maciço, para receber o espírito de cigana Ina. Sentava de costas para a porta de entrada e Ruth fiçava A sua frente. Davam-se as mãos, uma olhando para a outra. A mulher mexia com a boca, sem emitir nehum som. Isto levava um bom tempo até a consulta.</p> <p>--- Filha, o que você quer da cigana Ina?</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/SUW855KR/portadas_4-22-2022_malungos-y-mil.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"3BKPQ5K4","book","2014","Barreto, Lima; Carlyon, Mark","The sad end of Policarpo Quaresma","","978-0-14-139570-8","","","","","2014","2022-05-11 17:28:57","2022-05-18 21:14:37","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Penguin Classics","Londres","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/sad-end-of-policarpo-quaresma/oclc/876285406&referer=brief_results","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>The buildings in the suburbs of Rio de Janeiro are the strangest of all the city. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the local topography, the capricious shape of the hills. The main cause, however, is the bizarre nature of the buildings themselves.</p> <p>You can picture nothing as irregular, as erratic and as completely unplanned. The houses sprouted up like seeds that had been scattered by the wind, and the streets sprouted up alongside them. Some begin as wide as a boulevard and end as narrow as an alley; they meander align in fortuitous loops and resist straightened out with implacable tenacity.</p> <p>At times they run parallel, with irritating regularity; at others they draw away from each other, leaving large open spaces crammed with houses, In some places the houses are piled on top of each other, oppressively passed together, Then suddenly a field opens out, stretching away as far as the eye can see.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/UTNDR8Z9/quaresma-eng.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2014","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"FD5E4XBF","book","2015","Chiriboga, Luz Argentina; Miller, Ingrid Watson; Morris, Margaret Lindsay","The Devil's Nose","","978-1-63417-690-3","","","","At the end of the nineteenth century, thousands of Jamaicans journeyed to Ecuador to fulfill their dreams for their future. But, to secure this dream, they had to accomplish their goal, which was to build President Eloy Alfaro's dream project -- a railroad system that would connect Guayaquil and Quito. In order to succeed, they had to conquer La nariz del diablo (The Devil's Nose), one of the most dangerous peaks in the Andes. This novel of historical fiction relates one of the greatest feats of engineering from the viewpoint of the Jamaican workers.","2015","2022-04-28 11:38:34","2022-05-18 21:14:27","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Page Publishing","New York","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/devils-nose/oclc/913831341&referer=brief_results","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Kingston, September 8, 1900, <em>Saint Mary Day</em>.</p> <p>The news spreads rapidly in Jamaica. Representatives of the Guayaquil and Quito Railway Company are calling for laborers to go work in Ecuador, a country located in South America. Contractors MacDonald and H. Killan have gone to the harbor to offer such an important job opportunity to build the railway line. They promise good &nbsp;wages, proper treatment, and safety.</p> <p>Men approach in order to find out what is all about; nobody knows where Ecuador is. For the Marret brother Gregory and Syne, their mind is running while they consider what the contractors tell them and they beging to understand the proposal.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/JNFTSRD6/devilsnose.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2015","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"JKIGEAXF","book","2013","Santos-Febres, Mayra; Lytle, Stephen","Sirena selena","","978-1-4299-8028-9","","","","Discovered by Martha Divine in the backstreets of San Juan, picking over garbage, drugged out of his mind and singing boleros that transfix the listener, a fifteen year old hustler is transformed into Sirena Selena, a diva whose uncanny beauty and irrisistable voice will be their ticket to fame and fortune. Auditioning for one of the luxury hotels in the Dominican Republic, Selena casts her spell over Hugo Graubel, one of the hotel's rich investors. Graubel is a powerful man in the Republic, married with children. Silena, determined to escape the poverty and abuse s/he suffered as a child, engages Graubel in a long seduction in this mordant, intensely lyrical tragi-comedy - part masque, part cabaret - about identity (class, race, gender) and ""the hunger and desire to be other things.""","2013","2022-05-16 16:08:28","2022-05-18 21:13:55","2022-05-16 16:08:28","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Picador","New York","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/sirena-selena-a-novel/oclc/872618095&referer=brief_results","","Puerto Rico","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>The bigger one, the smaller one. One is hombre, the other is mujer, although he can be the smaller one; the man is not necessarily stronger or bigger than the other one, but he’s the one who leads, who decides, who rules. There are many ways to rule, many things required to be un hombre or to be una mujer, for each person can decide for himself. Sometimes &nbsp;you can even be both. Without having to choose one or the other. Money, a big car, the billetes to go far away, to go into the best bars, the one with the most lights. That’s what the man has, And if he dances and the other one leads, then he’s la &nbsp;mujer. And if she decides where to go, then she’s el hombre, but if he stays there in the arms of Migueles, who is leading, he’s una mujer. But what if it was she who convinced him to dance, who brought him here with her hot face and her tricks? Then who is el hombre, la mujer?</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/NW2LFIFJ/sirena-eng.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2000","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"WSE9RY8L","book","2013","Morejón, Nancy; Carmell, Pamela","Querencias = homing instincts","","978-0-9827860-5-5","","","","In this bilingual volume of poetry by world famous Afro-Cuban belle des letres Nancy Morejón, the power of her lyrical voice mesmerizes. Most of the poems have never before appeared in English, and here Pamela Carmell's delicate touch does tribute to their depth and intricacy. The theme of the collection is love, in all its forms- from romantic love, to familial affection, to patriotic fervor. Known as a feminist and a powerfully political player of the Cuban Revolution, Morejón reveals a different side of herself here. Experience depths of passion and pride as experienced and represented by one of the most uniquelt talented players of our time.","2013","2022-04-24 00:29:19","2022-05-18 21:13:43","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","Cubanabooks","California, EEUU","spa;eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/homing-instincts-querencias/oclc/995302042&referer=brief_results","PQ 7390 .M68 A2 2014","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>on a map we can draw all the lines</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">horizontal straight diagonal</p> <p>from the Greenwich Meridian to the Gulf of Mexico</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">that more or less</p> <p>comprise the quirks of our identity</p> <p></p> <p>there are also maps so large, so very large</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">in our imagination</p> <p>and globes that go on forever</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">marta</p> <p></p> <p>but today I suspect that on a ver small, minute</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">map</p> <p>sketched on a piece of notebook paper</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">we could fit all of our history</p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1""></p> <p style=""padding-left: 40px"" data-indent=""1"">all of it</p> <p></p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/UN6LFFPP/instincts.jpg","","","Cuba; Women; Love poetry; Poetry","","","","Carmell, Pamela","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2013","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"JKXG8VD7","book","1840","Manzano, Juan Francisco; Madden, Richard Robert","Poems by a slave in the island of Cuba","","","","","https://ia600303.us.archive.org/18/items/poemsbyslaveinis00manz/poemsbyslaveinis00manz.pdf","","1840","2022-04-11 15:46:44","2022-05-18 21:13:30","2022-04-11 15:46:44","","206","","","","","Poems by a Slave [Juan F. M., i.e. Juan Francisco Manzano] in the Island of Cuba, recently liberated; translated from the Spanish, by R. R. Madden, M.D. With the history of the early life of the negro poet, written by himself; to which are prefixed two pieces descriptive of Cuban slavery and the slave traffic, by R. R. M. [i.e. R. R. Madden.]","tr","","","","T. Ward & Co.","Londres","eng","","","Wellesley College Library","https://archive.org/details/Wellesley_College_Library","https://www.worldcat.org/title/poems-by-a-slave-juan-f-m-ie-juan-francisco-manzano-in-the-island-of-cuba-recently-liberated-translated-from-the-spanish-by-r-r-madden-md-with-the-history-of-the-early-life-of-the-negro-poet-written-by-himself-to-which-are-prefixed-two-pieces-descriptive-of-cuban-slavery-and-the-slave-traffic-by-r-r-m-ie-r-r-madden/oclc/1152802882&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Behold, yon placid, plodding, staid old man,</p> <p>His still and solemn features closely scan!</p> <p>In his calm look how wisdom's light is shed,</p> <p>How the grey hairs, become his honoured head!</p> <p>Mark how the merchants bow, as he goes by,</p> <p>How men on 'Change, at his approach draw nigh,</p> <p>“Highly respected,"" and esteemed ; 'tis said,</p> <p>His fame to Afric's farthest shore is spread!</p> <p>Behold, his house!—if marble speak elsewhere,</p> <p>“Sermons in stones"" are with a vengeance here,</p> <p>Whate'er the potent will of wealth can do</p> <p>Or pride can wish, is offered to your view.</p> <p>Those gay saloons, this banquet hall's array,</p> <p>This glaring pile in all its pomp survey,</p> <p>The grandeur strikes—one must not look for taste—</p> <p>What's gorgeous, cannot always be quite chaste.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/5E7CZDQT/poemsbyslaveinis00manz.jpg","","","Slavery","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1840","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"TYDQS6PJ","book","2016","Robinson Abrahams, Hazel; Chapman, Annie","No give up, maan! = ¡No te rindas!","","978-958-8250-90-8 978-958-8250-88-5","","","https://archive.org/details/no-give-up-maan/page/290/mode/2up?view=theater","","2016","2022-04-02 01:09:55","2022-05-18 21:13:00","","","","","","","","No give up, maan! = ?","tr","","","","Ministerio de Cultura de Colombia","Bogotá","spa;eng","","","Biblioteca Básica de Cultura Colombiana","https://siise.bibliotecanacional.gov.co/BBCC/Home/Index/1","https://www.worldcat.org/title/no-give-up-maan-no-te-rindas/oclc/1069609706/editions?referer=di&editionsView=true","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>—Di lo que quieras, George —intervino Birmington—. Los esclavos del continente han recibido la libertad y aquí también se tocará la campana de la libertad y todo lo demás vendrá con ella.</p> <p>***</p> <p> “Say what you will George,” interrupted Birmington. “Slavery on the mainland has been abolished and it will happen here too. The bell of freedom will toll and everything else will come with it.”</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/6CJENVBD/no-give-up-man-hazel-robinson.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2002","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"7VMJC5J4","book","1969","Díaz Sánchez, Ramón; Upton, John","Cumboto","","978-0-292-78406-2","","","","","1969","2022-05-14 22:27:11","2022-05-18 21:03:24","","","","","","","","","tr","","","","University of Texas Press","Texas, EEUU","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cumboto/oclc/1131228305&referer=brief_results","","Venezuela","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>I imagined thousands of fantastic things, and my nights were filled with erotic visions. There she was, not in the city but in the deep jungle, writing and gleaming at the center of a group of naked Negroes. She was dancing to the beat of the deep drums, whose music took on Beethoven’s rich harmony and yet retained all their telluric vigor. I knew that this was a strange and absurd synthesis, and yet in my dream I heard it happen. It was like a monstrous hybrid--of a dolphin or an albatross and a panther, say. It was so powerful that I was swept up in a kind of whirlwind, and I twisted and vibrated like a bow when its strings snaps. This was the goal toward which the uncontrollable, fiery cataract of my life was rushing. The dream reoccurred many times; it was the work of a clever succubus who came to my cot regularly to conduct her oneiric concert.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/3CUXDYBY/cumboto-eng.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1969","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"R2SWGX5D","book","2010","Batrell, Ricardo; Sanders, Mark A.","A Black Soldier's Story: the Narrative of Ricardo Batrell and the Cuban War of Independence","","978-0-8166-5008-8","","","","","2010","2022-03-07 03:09:11","2022-05-18 21:02:24","","","","","","","","A black soldier's story","tr","","","","University of Minnesota Press","Minneapolis, USA","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/black-soldiers-story-the-narrative-of-ricardo-batrell-and-the-cuban-war-of-independence/oclc/617508704","F 1786 .B3313 2010","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>But then I could retreat from the camp, although with sharp pains in my leg. Sanguily, Pedro José Castillo Maróa, his assistant, Pablo Espinosa, and my good friend Leocadio all were able to retreat much faster than I because my wounds hadn’t completely healed. I was a roadblock for me; so I lay down and was now decaying, I was a roadblock for me; so I lay down on the ground next to the tree, and covered myself with dirt; and as it turned out, that saved me.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/6F9GIHBN/large.jpeg","","","History; Biography; Personal narratives; Soldiers; Cuba; Batrell, Ricardo, 1880-; Black people; Revolution, 1895-1898","","","","Sanders, Mark A.","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"GDSJPUVI","book","1952","Brindis de Salas, Virginia","Pregón de marimorena (poemas)","","","","","https://ia804609.us.archive.org/14/items/pregon-de-marimorena-virginia-brindis-de-salas_202111/Pregon%20De%20Marimorena%20-%20Virginia%20Brindis%20de%20Salas.pdf","","1952","2022-04-03 16:34:44","2022-05-17 18:56:04","","","","","","","","","","","","","Sociedad Cultural Editora Indoamericana","Montevideo","spa","","","Autores UY","https://archive.org/details/autores","https://www.worldcat.org/title/pregon-de-marimorena-poemas/oclc/5363257?referer=br&ht=edition","","Uruguay","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>La hora ciega a los otros</p> <p>que viven del otro lado.</p> <p>Amigo, quítate la venda</p> <p>quítate la venda</p> <p>que a ti te ciega en este,</p> <p>quítate la venda.</p> <p> </p> <p>Es hora de dejar libres</p> <p>pasiones y ocios mentales.</p> <p>Amigo bulle mi sangre</p> <p>mientras la tuya se estanca;</p> <p>quítate la venda, quítate.</p> <p> </p> <p>La hora sangró la tierra,</p> <p>fortalece una simiente;</p> <p>¿qué cosecharán tus manos,</p> <p>tus dos manos bien inertes?</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/W2S9IZYK/pregon_marimorena_virginia_brindis_Morel.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1946","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"SDMMUWZY","book","1989","Morejón, Nancy","Baladas para un sueño","","","","","","","1989","2022-04-24 00:44:30","2022-05-17 18:54:59","","","","","","","","Baladas para un sueño","","","","","Unión de Escritores y Artistas de Cuba","La Habana","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/baladas-para-un-sueno/oclc/28284683&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Eres el amo.</p> <p>Azares y un golpe seco de la historia</p> <p>te hicieron ser mi amo.</p> <p>Tienes la tierra todo</p> <p>y yo tengo la pena.</p> <p>En medio de la noche</p> <p>te alzas como una bestia en celo.</p> <p>Tuyos mi sudor y mis manos.</p> <p>Me has hecho nómada en mis propios confines.</p> <p>Eres el amo</p> <p>y eres esclavo</p> <p>de lo que posees.</p> <p>Eres el amo.</p> <p>Me has despojado de mis cosas</p> <p>pero no de mi canto.</p> <p>¿Qué vas a hacer</p> <p>cuando me alce mañana</p> <p>y recobre mi potro, mi olivo</p> <p>y mis estrellas?</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/5VQDP4J9/baladas.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1989","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"CT5C57HJ","book","2017","Ferreira da Silva «Ferréz», Reinaldo","Capão Pecado","","978-85-422-0896-2","","","","","2017","2022-05-14 18:36:27","2022-05-17 17:12:34","","","","","","","","","","","","","Objetiva","Rio de Janeiro","pt","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/capao-pecado/oclc/1005080240&referer=brief_results","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Capão Redondo, pra mim, mano, é um mundo à parte, é um país com vários estados que são as quebradas: São Luís, Vaz de Lima, Capelinha, Campo Limpo, Rosa, Sabin, Atlântico, Sto. Eduardo, são Bento, Valo Velho, Jangadeiro, Jd. Ângela etc. &nbsp;</p> <p>Rael e cebola jogaram vídeo game até anoitecer. Quando Rael estava quase indo embora, Matcherros acordou e eles começaram a conversar. Combinaram de ir ao baile da News Black Chic, lá no pátio da escola José Olímpio; o som da equipe era muito bom e vinha gente lá do Valo Velho, Piraporinha, Jd. Ingá, Pirajussara, Morro do s, Pq. Regina, Pq. Arariba, São Luís, Buraco do Sapo, Pq. Fernanda e de várias quebradas, pois os bailes e roles noturnos eram cada vez mais raros na periferia. </p> <p>Periferia é tudo igual, não importa o lugar: zona leste, oeste, norte ou sul. Não importa se é no rio de Janeiro, em Minas Gerais, Brasília ou em São Paulo. Enfim, seja lá qual for o lugar, sempre serão os mesmos problemas que desqualificam o povo + pobre, moradores de casas amontoadas umas em cima das outras.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/YEFA3QSH/capao-pecado.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"WKH7326M","book","1892","Morúa Delgado, Martín","Impresiones literarias: Las novelas del sr. Villaverde","","","","","https://ia601405.us.archive.org/13/items/impresiones-literarias-texto-impreso-las-novelas-del-sr.-villaverde/Impresiones_literarias_Texto_impreso_las_novelas_del_Sr._Villaverde.pdf}","","1892","2022-04-01 23:41:50","2022-05-17 16:39:20","","","","","","","","","","","","","Imp. de Álvarez y ca","La Habana","spa","","","Biblioteca Digital del Patrimonio Iberoamericano","http://www.iberoamericadigital.net/BDPI/Inicio.do","https://www.worldcat.org/title/novelas-del-sr-villaverde/oclc/27647842&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>_Madama Bovary_, en su fototipia social, y _La Tentasión_ de Sainte Antoine, en su universalismo, son ambas eminentemente psicológicas, y en particular la última de estas obras, que es además como el proceso artístico-filosólico de todos los sistemas de relijión y de moral de la humanidad en todas sus distintas manifestaciones. Diríase que Salambú es el punto de apoyo del egrejio maestro para alcanzar holgadamente á delinear en La Tentation de Sainte Antoine la sublime trajedia de la mente humana que resulta de ese superior esfuerzo intelectual. M. Flaubert no comprendía el arte sin la ciencia, y ésto constituye substancial y preferentemente la urdimbre de sus mejores obras.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/7T8B4KXI/impresiones-literarias-martin-morua-delgao.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1892","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"ML4H3QAJ","book","1978","López Albújar, Enrique","Matalaché","","","","","https://archive.org/details/matalache_202111/page/6/mode/2up?view=theater","","1978","2022-04-02 00:45:05","2022-05-17 16:39:04","","","","","","","","","","","","","Casa de las Américas","La Habana","spa","","","Epub Libre","http://epublibre.org","https://www.worldcat.org/title/matalache/oclc/488522294?referer=br&ht=edition","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Y en este vértigo del trabajo el negro era el que más contribuía con su sangre y su sudor. Al igual que las bestias, se le daba ración contada y medida. Al levantarse, el culén o la yerba luisa y un bollo de pan, elaborado por el mismo esclavo, o traído de alguna tahona miserable. Al mediodía, caldo gordo o sopa boba y un mate de zarandajas con arroz quebrado y ripioso. Así también en la merienda. Apenas si uno que otro día de la semana le caía entre las manos los restos malogrados de algún camarico, o una lonja de tasajo, o una paila de arroz con dulce, o un tinajón de champús, o una cabeza de plátanos verdes para asar, dado todo con alarde de liberalidad por algún patrón de conciencia más o menos católica.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/PJ5FFSV3/enrique-lopez-albujar-mataleche.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1928","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"L839PKZM","book","1891","Morúa Delgado, Martín","Sofía","","","","","https://archive.org/download/sofia-texto-impreso-novela-cubana/Sof%C3%ADa_Texto_impreso_novela_cubana.pdf","","1891","2022-03-18 20:47:58","2023-06-26 05:51:21","2022-03-18 20:47:58","","","","","","","","","","","","Alvarez y comp.","La Habana","spa","","","Harvard University","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/black-soldiers-story-the-narrative-of-ricardo-batrell-and-the-cuban-war-of-independence/oclc/617508704","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>POBRE Sofía! Era una muchacha muy desgraciada. Cuando una vez, en los paseos que daba á la niña Julita, le interrogó una de sus compañeras, mujer de entrada edad, negra de respetable porte que solía decir que era el «jorcón de la casa», refiriéndose á la de sus señores, por los muchos años que llevaba en ella; viendo Sofía el cariñoso interés que le demostraba la buena mujer, contándole su historia le había dicho:</p> <p> </p> <p>—Yo no tengo padre ni madre. No los he conocido nunca. Yo no tengo familia.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/BENAHL3R/sofia-martin-morua-delgao.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1891","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"GS6D9RMP","book","1912","Batrell, Ricardo","Para la historia: apuntes autobiográficos de la vida de Ricardo Batrell Oviedo.","","","","","https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/008585294","","1912","2022-03-21 20:47:43","2023-06-26 05:51:42","2022-03-21 20:47:43","","179, [1] p., 2 ¡.","","","","","","","","","","Seoane y Alvarez, Impresores","La Habana","spa","","","HathiTrust","http://hathitrust.org","https://www.worldcat.org/title/black-soldiers-story-the-narrative-of-ricardo-batrell-and-the-cuban-war-of-independence/oclc/617508704","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Estuvimos cuatro horas acampados y hacíamos de comer al mismo tiempo, que recibíamos el tesoro más codiciado del sol dado patriota: (municiones), y á más de la que pudiera llevar cada jinete para su necesidad de combatir, se le hizo responsa ble de una caja de mil tiros, á cada uno, sin que pudiera pretextar nadie, que el caballo estaba cansado, porque al que alegaba eso le contestaba la superioridad, que cuando el caballo<br>no pudiera se la echara al hombro.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/XBFK6HB5/33433067340814-seq_7.jpg","","","History; Cuba; 1895-1898; Revolution","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1912","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"4I4H4NGK","book","1996","«Cuti», Luiz Silva","Negros em contos","","978-85-7160-078-2","","","","","1996","2022-04-03 18:42:54","2022-05-17 16:37:13","","","","","","","","","","","","","Mazza","Belo Horizonte, Brasil","pt","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/negros-em-contos/oclc/469748490&referer=brief_results","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Se o dia for bom, ainda sobrará para as balas e um maço de cigarros.</p> <p>Faz frio e a blusa que a mãe recebeu na casa da patroa não lhe aquece bem a magreza. No estômago, pão e café puros torcem-se.</p> <p>Força o calcanhar. O carrinho vai parando. A roda dianteira no ar, suspensa, gira livremente. Segue a Avenida Corifeu de Azevedo Marques,</p> <p>interrompida por escavações para saneamento básico. Entre buracos e montes esparsos de terra e asfalto destruído, empurra, sustentando as alças de madeira,</p> <p>que rolimãs sem asfalto não deslizam. Pés descalços, ele vai com a esperança de conseguir trabalho. Sente-se adulto aos 13 anos. Pensa na doença do irmão.</p> <p>Está resoluto: “Vou conseguir o remédio.”</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/ABSXHGBG/Negros em contos, portada del libro escrito por Luiz Silva, Cuti.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"8U64UGTM","book","2017","Monet, Aja","My Mother Was A Freedom Fighter","","978-1-60846-767-9","","","","","2017","2022-05-16 16:43:21","2022-05-17 01:19:39","","","","","","","","","","","","","Haymarket Books","New York","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/my-mother-was-a-freedom-fighter/oclc/1117327578&referer=brief_results","","Jamaica / Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>yesterday i was the toa river</p> <p>where my grandmother rinsed her feet</p> <p>and cupped water into her hands</p> <p>toward her face</p> <p>dripping down her chin</p> <p>along, soft clay bet</p> <p>sculpting a mother </p> <p>A body bathing in daybreak,</p> <p>bleeding beautiful</p> <p>the fish skirt around her calves</p> <p>dragonflies babble on her neck</p> <p>the sun sets her skin ablaze</p> <p>she howls toward the horizon</p> <p>tomorrow</p> <p>tomorrow</p> <p>tomorrow</p> <p>i will be a torch in my daughter</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/Z2AKLVUQ/freedom.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2017","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"HF7J8EJB","book","2000","Santos-Febres, Mayra","Sirena Selena vestida de pena","","978-88-438-0263-0","","","","","2000","2022-05-16 16:04:27","2022-05-17 01:15:41","","","","","","","","","","","","","Mondadori","Barcelona","spa","","","","","https://www-worldcat-org.proxy.library.nd.edu/title/sirena-selena-vestida-de-pena/oclc/1039818569/editions?editionsView=true&referer=br","","Puerto Rico","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>El más grande, la más chiquita. Uno hombre, el otro mujer, aunque puede ser el más chico, que no necesariamente sea un hombre el más fuerte ni el más grande que el otro, sino el que dirige, el que decide, el que manda. Hay muchas maneras de mandar, muchas formas de ser hombre o de ser mujer, una decide. A veces se puede ser ambas sin tener que dejar de ser ni lo uno ni lo otro. Dinero, el carrazo, los chavos para irse lejos, para entrar en las barras más bonitas, más llenas de dulces. Eso le toca al hombre. Y si se baila y otro dirige entonces se es la mujer. Y si ella decide adónde va, entonces es el hombre, pero si se queda entre los brazos de Migueles, que dirige, es una mujer. ¿Y si fue ella quien lo convence a bailar, quien lo atrae con su cara caliente y sus trampas? Entonces, ¿quién es el hombre, la mujer?</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/QTAG4B6B/sirena.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2000","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"EUFB8EDN","book","1991","Thomas, Piri","Down these mean streets","","978-0-679-78142-4 978-0-679-73238-9","","","","","1991","2022-05-16 17:03:29","2022-05-16 17:08:30","","","","","","","","","","","","","Vintage Books","New York","eng","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/down-these-mean-streets/oclc/1020241414&referer=brief_results","","Puerto Rico / Cuba / USA","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>The Pennsylvanian smiled. “Oh, I’m not looking for that kind of personal involvement,” he said. “I’m not seeking violence but rather the warmth and harmony of the southern Negro, their wonderful capacity for laughter and strength, their spiritual closeness to God and their way of expressing faith through their gospel singing. I want to capture on paper the richness of their poverty and their belief in living. I want the words I write to blend with emotions of their really fantastic ability to endure and absorb the anguish of past memories of the slavery that was the lot of their grandparents. I want to write that despite their burdens they are working with the white man toward a productive relationship.”</p> <p>I glanced at Brew. He was studying the shadows on the walls. I took a good look at the Pennsylvanian. He was tan-colored and not really very negroid-looking. I got a funny, almost proud feeling that I looked more negroid than he did.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/ZA5LXMS3/down-these.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1967","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"8VIFCHWD","book","2017","Chiriboga, Luz Argentina","Este mundo no es de las feas: cuentos","","978-9978-49-569-8","","","","","2017","2022-05-16 14:47:26","2022-05-16 15:08:25","","","","","","","","Este mundo no es de las feas","","","","","Libresa","Quito","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/este-mundo-no-es-de-las-feas-cuentos/oclc/1262990837&referer=brief_results","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Al subir, lo primero que notó fue que algunos pasajeros tenían el cabello húmedo y olían a jabón barato, como si recién hubieran salidos de bañarse; otros lucían sus uniformes de trabajo; y los rostros de todos delataban nerviosismo por llegar puntuales a sus empleos. El pasajero que iba a su lado leía el diario, concentrado en una nota que hacía referencia al atentado de las torres en Nueva York. Erema frunció el entrecejo. A diferencia de los días anteriores, necesitaba llegar puntual a la oficina, debía estar lista para recibir al representante del circo y adquirir boletos para los empleados de su sección. Vestía un terno estilo sastre color café, cuya falda le daba a los tobillos, y zapatos de tacones bajos de cuero de culebra, que parecían del tiempo de la abuela. Era su forma de vestir. No advertía que la moda había cambiado y lucía más edad de la que tenía, sus veintiocho parecían treinta y ocho.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/9JUWS7LA/mundofeas.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"WNVSZH8W","book","2013","Chagas, Jorge","La sombra: la novela de Ansina","","978-9974-651-59-3","","","","","2013","2022-05-14 23:01:05","2022-05-14 23:09:30","","","","","","","","La sombra","","","","","Rumbo Editorial","Montevideo","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/sombra-la-novela-de-ansina/oclc/876713812&referer=brief_results","","Uruguay","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>¿Qué dirán de mí, cuando ya no esté, cuando mis huesos se hayan vuelto polvo?</p> <p>¿Qué crímenes y atropellos me achacarán?</p> <p>¿Cómo seré recordado?</p> <p>Esclavo retobado y desagradecido que no respetó a sus amos, un mal nacido, hombre de las más oscura condición y clase baja, secuaz de un caudillo tiránico y sanguinario, renegado, traidor a la Corona, blasfemo, hereje, canalla, criminal que cometió actos abominables en nombre de la revolución federal, siervo del llamado Atila de las Provincias Unidas que fue obsecuente con él hasta el infortunio, chúcaro, fornicador de yeguas, acaso sodomita. sacrílego, vil, disoluto, renegado, apátrida, desgraciado, bufo, salvaje, vulgar, infame que no respetó la autoridad ni el orden establecido, ¡un tupamaro! o tal vez, simplemente, el Negro Ansina, sin rostro y sin voz</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/F9HHT6BS/alsina.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2013","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"KBB54Q6Z","book","2020","Chagas, Jorge","El Pardejón: la novela de Fructuoso Rivera","","978-9974-9092-7-4","","","","","2020","2022-05-14 22:10:02","2022-05-14 22:17:50","","","","","","","","","","","","","Fin de Siglo","Montevideo","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/pardejon-la-novela-de-fructuoso-rivera/oclc/1245850008&referer=brief_results","","Uruguay","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Así comenzó para mí, Eustaquio Santos, la revolución. Esa revolución que nos dejó marcas para siempre. (Si pudiéramos narrar nuestra historia, una historia de dolores y fatigas, y dijésemos que comenzamos la lucha por el rey de estas tierras que no conocíamos y nunca conoceríamos, ¿nos creerían, acaso? ¿O al oírnos se burlarían de nosotros? ¿Quién pelea por lo que no sabe, por lo que no conoce? Extraña revolución que obligó a cabalgaar juntos a paisanos errantes sin conchabo alguno, chúcaros y retobados, aparceros, curas, infieles, negros y pardos fugados, platudos de nariz respingada y más estirados que perro al sol, con sus pañuelos de seda al cuello y sombreros de ala ancha. Extraña revolución donde ambos ejércitos, patriotas y godos, morían combatiendo en nombre de un mismo rey desconocido.)</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/6XNWWMEF/pardejon.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2020","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"9E2CQ2XS","book","2002","Mata Gil, Milagros","El diario íntimo de Francisca Malabar","","978-980-01-1158-1","","","","","2002","2022-05-11 13:14:39","2022-07-22 01:35:57","","","219","","","","","","Colección Continentes","","","","Monte Avila Editores Latinoamericana","Caracas","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/diario-intimo-de-francisca-malabar/oclc/1198350599&referer=brief_results","PQ 8550.23 .A834 D5 2001","Venezuela","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Una vez alguien estaba de visita en Cuba con un grupo turístico y tenían como guía a un negro joven y petulante, perfeccionista graduado en Letras que hacía un doctorado en Carpentier o algo así. Y el negro habíia sido muy severo, muy estrecho de miras, muy comunista en eso de imponer horarios y disciplinas, soslayando conversaciones que fueran más allá del estricto manejo de un rebaño de turistas. Y estuvieron en la Plaza de la Revolución y todos esos sitios. Pero luego, en un momento, llegaron a un pueblo, creo, con casas coloniales reconstruidas para efectos turísticos, y en una de esas casashubo una especie de fiesta y todos bebieron y de pronto el negro sacó una guitarra y comenzó a cantar. Y no sé por cuáles caminos llegaron a esa trova de los trovadores que en un tiempo fueron de La nueva Trova, no sé, y a ese alguien que cantaba se le humedecieron los ojos. Porque era verdad. Las reticencias se derritieron. El grupo compacto cantó la canción, con unción de llantos y deseos, con un dolor de sueños rotos o &nbsp;corrompidos, y sentían Su Presencia, como un bloque invisible y tibio y esperanzador. No es que Él estuviera allá, porque no iba a estar en una fiesta, así como era de asceta, sino que era posible ver cómo hay algo en el corazón de cada quien: una llamita azul, apenas llama de piloto, que espera la chispa, el detonante.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/KBA2MKW4/malabar.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2002","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"C984SS4S","book","2010","Marinez de Varela, Alfredo; Zarkanchenko de González, Luz Colombia; Posada de Pupo, Elisa; Panchano, Lucrecia; Benet Robinson, Ofelia Margarita; Mina Díaz, Bertulia; Ramírez Nieva, María Teresa; Viveros Vigoya, Leida; Mina Díaz, Imelda; Grueso Romero, Mary; Posso Figueria, Amalia Lú; Mina Díaz, Ana Teresa; Valencia, Laura Victoria; Vélez, Turque; Chavarría Londoño, Hermilda; Cueto Mercado, Muris; Truque, Sonia Nadhezda; Sierra González, Lya; Zapata Pérez, Edelma; Castillo, Nila del Socorro; Truque, Yvonne América; Diago, Ruth Patricia; Corpus Stephens, Briceña; de la Torre Córdoba, Jenny; Adress Guzmán, Alexandra; Guerrero Muñoz, Clara; Duque Palacios, Sayly; Castillo Reina, Felipa Trifenia; Solarte Orejuela, Sonia","Antología de mujeres poetas afrocolombianas","","978-958-753-007-0","","","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/digital/api/collection/p17054coll7/id/15/download","","2010","2022-03-18 20:37:20","2022-07-22 01:35:48","","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/antologia-de-mujeres-poetas-afrocolombianas/oclc/879738909&referer=brief_results","PQ 8174 .A586 2010","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""6""><p>Tocá ese tambor</p> <p>Tocá ese tambor hijo mío,</p> <p>vuelen sobre él tus manos mestizas,</p> <p>confluye a tu sangre africana,</p> <p>confluye a tu sangre india.</p> <p>Tocá ese tambor hijo mío,</p> <p>cierra los ojos y vuela,</p> <p>en las notas temblorosas</p> <p>ritmo de baile africano,</p> <p>cante tu boca bembita,</p> <p>tromponcita y cariñosa.</p> <p>Tocá ese tambor hijo mío,</p> <p>vuelen tus manos mestizas,</p> <p>en los sonidos de África,</p> <p>con tu boca medio bemba</p> <p>y tu pasita amonada.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/6TQ6P2SM/antologia-mujeres-poetas-afrocolombianas.jpg","","","History and criticism; Colombia; Colombian poetry; Women authors, Black","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2010","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"3MUBBFWP","book","1999","Chiriboga, Luz Argentina","Tambores bajo mi piel","","978-9978-60-027-6","","","","","1999","2022-04-28 11:26:31","2022-05-03 21:42:34","","","","","","","","Tambores bajo mi piel","","","","","Instituto Andino de Artes Populares","Quito","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/tambores-bajo-mi-piel-novela/oclc/53049354&referer=brief_results","","Ecuador","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Mi acento costeño atrajo la atención de mujeres, adormitadas en los asientos, que disimularon su curiosidad fingiendo arreglar algunos paquetes. A esa hora, todo, agotamiento general, convidaba al sueño. Al estar sola miedos imaginarios me llenaron la mente, por qué Dios había perdido, en ese instante, su poder creador de vida y movimiento. Volvió la voz de mamá con su Pórtate bien, que se transformó en dudas, sospechas, presagios y, más preciso, en temores. En la puerta de la agencia de transporte un hombre de blue jean esperaba la partida del bus que nos conduciría a Quito. Su gorra retuvo mis miradas, las botas lo evidenciaban llegado de lejos. Sin que pudiera verle el rostro se acercó al grabado de un paisaje andino adherido a la pared. Por el frío hundió las manos en los bolsillos de su chompa.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/DTCRGQJZ/tambores.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1991","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"M7Q6UUMH","book","2016","Herrera, Georgina","Poesía completa","","978-959-10-2186-1","","","","","2016","2022-04-24 00:34:30","2022-05-03 21:28:23","","","","","","","","","","","","","Instituto Cubano del Libro","La Habana","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/poesia-completa/oclc/1078223608&referer=brief_results","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Sobre esos muros</p> <p>Húmedos aún, en las paredes</p> <p>que la lluvia y el llanto de hace tiempo</p> <p>desgastaron e hicieron</p> <p>a la vez eternos, pongo en mis manos.</p> <p>A través de los dedos, oigo</p> <p>gemidos, maldiciones, juramentos</p> <p>de los que, calladamente,</p> <p>resistieron por los siglos</p> <p>los colmillos del látigo en la carne.</p> <p>Todo me llega del pasado, mientras</p> <p>se alza el pensamiento: pido</p> <p>a los sobrevivientes</p> <p>de la interminable travesía</p> <p>fuerza y memoria -- esa</p> <p>devoción por el recuerdo --,</p> <p>y el amor, mucho, todo el amor</p> <p>con que regaron su impetuosa semilla, perpetuándola.</p> <p>Así lo siento, lo recojo.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/9X6TBYDF/obracompleta.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2016","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"NNJ6C6PK","book","1996","Bernard, Eulalia","Ritmohéroe","","978-9977-23-647-6","","","","","1996","2022-04-10 23:40:17","2022-05-03 21:05:12","","","","","","","","","","","","","Editorial Costa Rica","San José, Costa Rica","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/ritmoheroe/oclc/41378562&referer=brief_results","","Costa Rica","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>El Carnaval,</p> <p>vamos, veamos los negros brincar,</p> <p>que trabajo no les vamos a dar.</p> <p></p> <p>El Carnaval,</p> <p>siéntete rey o reina del mar,</p> <p>negro!, es tu única oportunidad.</p> <p></p> <p>El Carnaval,</p> <p>Suda, embriaga, vomita tus penas,</p> <p>arrastra con ritmo tus cadenas,</p> <p>burla tres días de duras faenas.</p> <p></p> <p>El Carnaval</p> <p>desfigúrate, haz gozar,</p> <p>que en Semana Santa</p> <p>la cruz vas a llevar.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/2HBL5T5D/ritmoheroe.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"PBZFBXDZ","book","1979","Artel, Jorge","No es la muerte es el morir.","","","","","","","1979","2022-04-03 18:47:01","2022-04-10 22:47:06","","","","","","","","","","","","","Creset","Bogotá","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/no-es-la-muerte-es-el-morir/oclc/778071674&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Cerca de diez minutos estuvieron tableteando las metralletas. Por respuesta, silencio hostil en el monte. De modo repentino, una lluvia de valas desgajóse sobre los soldados, que se parapeteaban entre las peñas y algunos montículos. El contra-ataque fue tan sorpresivo que aquellos no tuvieron tiempo de dar cara al asalto. En el arroyo parece haber quedado toda la sengre del mundo.</p> <p>- Bueno, muchachos, escúllquenlos, recojan las armas y vámonos. ¡Rápido!</p> <p>Con sumetralleta aún caliente, el hombre joven que hubo dado la orden pasó un vistazo frío sobre el pelotón de muertos.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/B3Q23SCY/no-es-la-muerte.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"MPSKQGDA","book","2019","Zapata Olivella, Manuel","Fábulas de Tamalameque","","","","","https://ia804609.us.archive.org/34/items/fabulas-de-tamalameque/Fa%CC%81bulas%20de%20Tamalameque.pdf","","2019","2022-04-01 23:30:27","2022-04-10 22:46:14","2022-04-01 23:30:27","","","","","","","","","","","","Instituto Distrital de las Artes","Bogotá","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/fabulas-de-tamalameque/oclc/1199872883&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Tío Elefante en la Aduana Terrestre reclamó:</p> <p>A Tío León que le entregara las garras. </p> <p>A Tío Toro que se arrancara los cuernos. </p> <p>A Tía Culebra que depositara su veneno. </p> <p>A Tío Rinoceronte que le entregara el sable que tenía en su nariz.</p> <p> A Tío Alacrán le pidió su ponzoña. </p> <p>A Tía Gallina le cortó el pico. </p> <p>A Tío Lobo que se sacara los colmillos. </p> <p>A Tía Cebra le quitó los cascos para que no pateara.</p> <p>Y al Hombre, que se presentó desnudo fingiéndose el más manso de los animales, le pidió que dejara la caja de fósforos que llevaba en la mochila para impedirle que usara el fuego, más destructivo que sus mandíbulas y que sus manos.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/FBWJET93/fabulas-tamalameque-manuel-zapata.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1975","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"9TJZQNCM","book","2004","Rodríguez Cabral, Cristina","Memoria y resistencia: antologia","","978-99934-974-1-7","","","https://archive.org/details/memoria-y-resistencia-antologia-seleccion-de-poemas-y-relatos/page/n1/mode/2up?view=theater","","2004","2022-04-02 00:50:11","2022-04-10 20:48:46","","","","","","","","","","","","","Editora Manatí","Santo Domingo, República Dominicana","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual Miguel de Cervantes","http://www.cervantesvirtual.com/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/memoria-resistencia-antologia/oclc/56843567&referer=brief_results","","Uruguay","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Soy resistencia y memoria.</p> <p>Construí el camino del amo</p> <p>así como el de la libertad.</p> <p>Morí en la Casa Grande</p> <p>igual que en la Senzala.</p> <p>Dejé el ingenio y descalza</p> <p>me hice cimarrona.</p> <p>Sola fui comunidad, casa y gobierno</p> <p>porque escasas veces estuviste allí;</p> <p>Hombre Negro sin memoria,</p> <p>codo a codo</p> <p>espalda contra espalda,</p> <p>sigues sin estar allí. </p> <p>Negro,</p> <p>nuestro ausente de siempre,</p> <p>generación tras generación,</p> <p>yo te parí,</p> <p>como a tu padre</p> <p>y a tus hermanos.</p> <p>Yo curvé la espalda</p> <p>sujetándote durante la cosecha;</p> <p>sangro, lucho, resisto</p> <p>y desconoces mi voz.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/RY5JPV2V/memoria-y-resistencia-cristina-rodriguez.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2004","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"LYME9KVA","book","1856","«Plácido», Gabriel de la Concepción Valdés","Poesías completas de Plácido (Gabriel de la Concepción Valdés).","","","","","https://ia804603.us.archive.org/9/items/poesias-completas-placido_202111/Poes%C3%ADas%20completas%20-%20Pl%C3%A1cido.pdf","","1856","2022-04-03 16:24:23","2022-04-10 19:44:58","","","","","","","","","","","","","Librería Española de Mme. C. Denné Schmitz e Hijo","París","spa","","","European Libraries","https://archive.org/details/europeanlibraries","https://www.worldcat.org/title/poesias-completas-de-placido-gabriel-de-la-concepcion-valdes/oclc/10013286/editions?referer=di&editionsView=true","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Negra deidad que sin clemencia alguna</p> <p>De espinas al nacer me circuiste,</p> <p> Cual fuente clara cuya márgen viste</p> <p> Maguey silvestre y punzadora tuna; </p> <p>Entre el materno tálamo y la cuna</p> <p>El férreo muro del honor pusiste; </p> <p>Y acaso hasta las nubes me subiste, </p> <p>Por verme descender desde la luna.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/8UXJB2WM/poesias-completas-placido.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1856","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"A6UQJIRC","book","2010","Palacios, Arnoldo","Las estrellas son negras","","","","","https://ia804602.us.archive.org/0/items/las-estrellas-son-negras_202111/Las%20estrellas%20son%20negras.pdf","","2010","2022-04-02 00:40:00","2022-04-10 18:08:42","2022-04-02 00:40:00","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/las-estrellas-son-negras/oclc/1102788210&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Una gallina cacareó, removiéndose en su nido debajo del fogón. Irra se agachó, asomándose a observar detenidamente la gallina. Claro, una gallina gorda. ¿Por qué no matarla y comerla inmediatamente? Pero entonces no podrían vender el huevo que ponía diariamente. ¿El huevo de hoy? Irra se agachó más, estiró su cuerpo, templó el cuello, alargó el brazo para agarrar la gallina; esta se sacudió, arrinconándose más. Irra le lanzó otro zarpazo, deseando estrujarle de una vez la cabeza o rasgarle el vientre con las uñas. La gallina, asustadiza, saltó de su nido, alejándose bajo su plumaje blanquinegro-amarillento-cenizo. Resolvió dejar en paz a la gallina y se puso de pie. Tenía la mirada sombría, rucia la tez morena, el ánimo decaído; su estómago chirriaba vacío.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/DEW6U35V/estrellas-negras-arnoldo-palacios.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1949","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"WZ2MQSYW","book","2010","López Albújar, Enrique","Cuentos andinos","","","","","https://biblioteca.agustinos.pe/opac_css/doc_num.php?explnum_id=2139","","2010","2022-04-01 20:04:13","2022-04-10 17:59:36","","","","","","","","","","","","","Peisa","Lima","spa","","","Epub Libre","http://epublibre.org","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cuentos-andinos/oclc/1187071622&referer=brief_results","","Perú","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Se diría que el indio gozaba con esta vida de inquietud y peligro, que su naturaleza fuerte y bravía necesitaba de estas persecuciones violentas, en las que, mientras sus perseguidores desplegaban toda la habilidad de un cazador apasionado, él desplegaba toda la ferocidad del tigre y toda la astucia del zorro. De aquí que la persecución se convirtiese en una especie de duelo a muerte, en el que, más que la vida misma, lo que más se temía perder era el triunfo. Y cada fracaso era un reclamo más para el bandolero, cuya triste celebridad agrandábase hasta circundar su figura de una aureola romántica.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/4TZX5LBR/enrique-lopez-albujar-cuentos-andinos.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1924","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"WQPEQIFF","book","1983","Alves, Miriam Aparecida","Momentos de busca: poemas","","","","","","","1983","2022-04-03 18:35:48","2023-03-09 20:32:35","","","","","","","","","","","","","Copidart","São Paulo","pt","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/momentos-de-busca-poemas/oclc/253929994&referer=brief_results","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Gostaria de concluir tudo aquilo</p> <p>que meus olhos veem</p> <p>nao conseguem enxergar</p> <p>As palavras que interpolam no lábios</p> <p>nao se soltan</p> <p>O riso solto fere os sentidos</p> <p>As manos querem agarrar</p> <p>o noturno</p> <p>Os cabelos sensíveis tocam fundo</p> <p>Os pés alisando a areia molhada</p> <p>arrepiando o corpo a cada passo</p> <p>Os passos dirigindo-se as águas</p> <p>salgadas</p> <p>O sol a água banhando-me</p> <p>os olhos fechados para nao verem</p> <p>os morros verdes</p> <p>escurecendo</p> <p>tomando formas incertas</p> <p>tentadores da noite.</p> <p>Noite completando o meu sonho</p> <p>lua embacando a o vidro de minha razáo</p> <p>Razáo de sentir um único desejo</p> <p>desejo adulto forte</p> <p>bom solto</p> <p>quase completo</p> <p>O rostro sorrindo</p> <p>esvaindo-se prezeirosa sensacao</p> <p>areia, mulher, luar, sorriso</p> <p>completano o inevitável</p> <p>natureza seguindo seu curso</p> <p>mar...</p> <p>Mulher cumprindo seu curso</p> <p>Vida...</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/ZT8CMJTK/Momentos-de-busca.png","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"BCJQ65CQ","book","2010","Truque, Carlos Arturo","Vivan los compañeros: cuentos completos","","","","","https://ia904605.us.archive.org/14/items/vivan-los-companeros/Vivan%20los%20compa%C3%B1eros.pdf","","2010","2022-04-03 16:54:08","2022-04-03 16:56:02","2022-04-03 16:54:08","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Nacional de Colombia","https://catalogoenlinea.bibliotecanacional.gov.co/client/es_ES/default","https://www.worldcat.org/title/vivan-los-companeros-cuentos-completos/oclc/1019679782&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Así, sabroso, regustando el ritmo picante desgranado por los guasás; así, moviéndose en círculos, como sobre un tambor; así, con la sangre corriente, llevándole bien lejos, hacia atrás, a donde ni memoria había.</p> <p>Él allí, dándose su gusto, tirando de los compases como de una cuerda, diablo de negro mandinga, con la boca como brasa del patacoré «que se va caé», se iba sintiendo mejor. Y allá en la tiniebla, la Damiana con su aire y sus pulmones que no daban más, sorbiendo espeso, sacándoles un último lance a las manos para sus dos cununos flácidos, que apenas vibraron un postrer compás antes de quedarse en paz, privaditos, solo simples cueros, sin aire posible ni dolor probable.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/2DZLYVI8/vivan-los-compañeros-carlos-arturo-truque.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1993","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"5W5RQKWK","book","2009","Gonçalves, Ana Maria","Um defeito de cor","","","","","https://ia801000.us.archive.org/14/items/ana-maria-goncalves-um-defeito-de-cor/Ana_Maria_Goncalves_-_Um_Defeito_de_Cor.pdf","","2009","2022-04-03 16:50:26","2022-04-03 16:53:17","","","","","","","","","","","","","Record","Rio de Janeiro","pt","","","Centro de Recursos de Computacionais","https://cercomp.ufg.br/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/um-defeito-de-cor/oclc/457558339/editions?referer=di&editionsView=true","","Brasil","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Passou o resto da noite embalando a filha e o neto mortos, e a luz do dia a encontrou buscando água no rio para molhar e esfregar os dois corpos. Depois cavou o chão no lugar onde dormiam, enrolou cada corpo em uma esteira e os colocou dentro do buraco. Uma única cova rasa para os dois, que mal deu para abrigá-los e à terra que jogou por cima enquanto cantava, para em seguida se ajoelhar ao lado e rezar por horas e horas. No meio da tarde, reacendeu o fogo no quintal e fez comida, que dividiu em cinco partes iguais: uma para mim, uma para a Taiwo, uma para ela e duas para colocar ao lado da cova. Só então desenrolou sua esteira e dormiu, sem ter dito uma única palavra para mim ou para a Taiwo, sem ter chorado uma só lágrima a mais desde a partida dos guerreiros</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/MFTCLEIP/um-defeito-de-cor.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"E63ACMZE","book","2020","Zapata Olivella, Manuel","Tierra mojada","","","","","https://ia601400.us.archive.org/2/items/tierra-mojada/Tierra%20mojada.pdf","","2020","2022-04-03 16:46:51","2022-04-03 16:48:52","","","","","","","","","","","","","Universidad del Valle","Cali, Colombia","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/tierra-mojada/oclc/1002879436/editions?editionsView=true&referer=br","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>—¿Y habrá tierra para mí?</p> <p>—Para todo el mundo. Esa vaina no tiene dueño —respondió López, con aire de magnanimidad—. Todo el que tenga valor para amarrarse los pantalones con las dificultades puede echar ancla. Es bueno que lo hagan ahora no más, para aprovechar las lluvias que ya se vienen.</p> <p>—Pues cuente conmigo. Dígame cuando se va para acompañarlo.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/T8AL7RRW/tierra-mojada-manuel-zapata.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1947","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"ID2CMLSS","book","2010","Artel, Jorge","Tambores en la noche","","","","","https://ia904609.us.archive.org/7/items/tambores-en-la-noche/Tambores%20en%20la%20noche.pdf","","2010","2022-04-03 16:41:26","2022-04-03 16:45:00","","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Básica de Cultura Colombiana","https://siise.bibliotecanacional.gov.co/BBCC/Home/Index/1","https://www.worldcat.org/title/tambores-en-la-noche/oclc/1019679793&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Un tono cálido</p> <p>amasado de gritos y de sol.</p> <p>Una estrofa negra,</p> <p>borracha de gaitas vagabundas </p> <p>y golpes dementes de tambor…</p> <p> </p> <p>Un oleaje frenético</p> <p>erizado de calor. Una playa foeteada</p> <p>como espaldas morenas,</p> <p>por las fustas ardientes,</p> <p>y un pedazo de mar —hermano mayor</p> <p>que me enseñó a ser rebelde—</p> <p>me dieron la canción.</p> <p> </p> <p>Se irguió alegre y turbulenta</p> <p>como una jacaranda de jazz band.</p> <p>Colgó de las aspas del faro,</p> <p> —molino de luz—</p> <p> y de las luces del puerto,</p> <p> indecisos cocuyos de tembloroso azul.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/HLHSTPFE/tambores-en-la-noche-jorge-artel.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1940","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"56ASHB64","book","2010","Zapata Olivella, Manuel","Por los senderos de sus ancestros: textos escogidos: 1940-2000","","","","","https://ia804607.us.archive.org/11/items/por-los-senderos-de-sus-ancestros/Por%20los%20senderos%20de%20sus%20ancestros.pdf","","2010","2022-04-03 16:38:14","2022-04-03 16:39:53","","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/por-los-senderos-de-sus-ancestros-textos-escogidos-1940-2000/oclc/1102788234&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>En la medida en que vamos tomando conciencia de los valores culturales de nuestra nacionalidad, surgen en el país entidades, personas y grupos que se dedican a las más variadas actividades folclóricas. Se madura el concepto de cultura, extendiendo su significación no solo a los valores de la pintura, literatura, música y artes tradicionalmente tenidas como clásicas, sino también a la creación popular, anónima, donde siempre queda la huella viva del pueblo que la produce.</p> <p>En esta fragua del arte anónimo, transmitido por generaciones y generaciones, nunca hay el fracaso que implica la experiencia novedosa –procedimientos de pintura, acoplamiento de la música a la danza, recetas de cocina, utilización de las fibras vegetales, etcétera–, porque en él ya están presupuestos los ensayos, la perfección de pueblos enteros en un tiempo indefinido.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/6VMDMBMJ/senderos-ancestros-manuel-zapata.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2010","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"FCGD39AV","book","2014","Bustos Aguirre, Rómulo; Santos García, Emiro","Rómulo Bustos Aguirre poesía escogida","","","","","https://ia804601.us.archive.org/15/items/poesia-escogida-romulo-bustos-aguirre_202111/Poes%C3%ADa%20escogida%20-%20R%C3%B3mulo%20Bustos%20Aguirre.pdf","","2014","2022-04-03 16:31:24","2022-04-03 16:33:06","","","","","","","","","","","","","Banco de la República de Colombia","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/romulo-bustos-aguirre-poesia-escogida/oclc/931955597&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>El mundo es siempre sí y no</p> <p>Sino lúdico. Incongruencia. Humor cósmico</p> <p> Por ejemplo ahora voy a enrollar este texto</p> <p>que aún no es texto</p> <p>Lo voy a enrollar sobre sí mismo</p> <p>Sobre su sí</p> <p>Sobre su no </p> <p>Sobre su sino</p> <p>Sobre su si no</p> <p>Lo voy a enrollar sobre su signo</p> <p>Para que tú</p> <p>lo desenrrolles en su espejeante gnosi(s)</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/QHVWXFAT/poesia-escogida-romulo-bustos.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2014","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"X76RPFI2","book","2010","Bustos Aguirre, Rómulo","Obra poética","","","","","https://ia804604.us.archive.org/33/items/obra-poetica-romulo-bustos-aguirre/Obra%20po%C3%A9tica%20-%20R%C3%B3mulo%20Bustos%20Aguirre.pdf","","2010","2022-04-03 16:16:32","2022-04-03 16:18:01","","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/obra-poetica/oclc/991670307&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Arrastra sus alas de ángel sonámbulo</p> <p>como quien busca una puerta entre largos corredores</p> <p>Triste de sí</p> <p>Pulsando inútil las cuerdas más dulces</p> <p>de mi alma</p> <p>Quizás me existiera desde siempre</p> <p>¿De qué ancho cielo habrá venido este huésped que no conozco?</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/LZLVYSU8/obra-poetica-romulo-bustos.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2010","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"CAY7UB2X","book","2010","Romero, Pedro Blas Julio","Obra poética","","","","","https://ia904601.us.archive.org/35/items/obra-poetica-pedro-blas/Obra%20po%C3%A9tica%20-%20Pedro%20Blas.pdf","","2010","2022-04-03 16:11:55","2022-04-03 16:14:26","2022-04-03 16:11:55","","","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/obra-poetica/oclc/1019679781&referer=brief_results","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>En un principio</p> <p>el Sol fue hecho a piedras</p> <p>sobre piedras</p> <p>desde toda la ternura del oscuro vulgo</p> <p>Y ya teníamos el poniente Pedregal</p> <p>que también inventamos</p> <p>con bastones del estilo</p> <p>para golpear</p> <p>levantando el goce</p> <p>Después de aquí</p> <p>al Sol se lo llevaron cuando ya hecho</p> <p>la policía del Creador atravesó furtiva</p> <p>entre Getsemaní y el sueño</p> <p>Ahora nadie se explica</p> <p>el porqué</p> <p>incansable su esfera</p> <p>lo ilumina todo</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/TDHNBGYD/obra-poetica-pedro-blas.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2010","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"YWCLA74N","book","1901","Morúa Delgado, Martín","La familia Unzúazu: novela cubana","","","","","https://ia904608.us.archive.org/20/items/la-familia_unzuaza/La%20familia%20Unz%C3%BAaza.pdf","","1901","2022-04-01 23:36:20","2022-04-01 23:38:46","2022-04-01 23:36:20","","325","","","","","La familia Unzúazu","","","","","La Prosperidad","Habana","spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/familia-unzuazu/oclc/1257034861/editions?start_edition=11&sd=desc&referer=di&se=yr&editionsView=true&fq=","","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Todos en aquella casa habían sido desafectos al señor don Acebaldo Nudoso del Tronco.</p> <p>La que menos fue Magdalena, su cuñada, quien favorecida por su caracter independiente hablale mirado siempre con cierta natural indiferencia. Federico, hermano también de su mujer, detestábale cual descabezado pupil a tutor severo, y afectaba desdeñarle tanto cuanto en realidad le temía. Ana María, la esposa del caballero, había llegado a casi aborrecerle cordialmente, porque le juzgaba indigno de su amor. Y, desde luego, los criados, tal vez los únicos que habrían podido citar agravios justificativos, le odiaban de tal manera que todos intimamente se alegraron de su violenta muerte.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/UH469YBI/familia-unzuaza-martin-morua-delgao.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1901","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"IRP7KNEH","book","2010","Zapata Olivella, Manuel","Changó, el gran putas","","978-958-753-006-3","","","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/digital/api/collection/p17054coll7/id/2/download","","2010","2022-04-01 15:21:16","2022-04-01 15:37:59","","","667","","","","","","","","","","Ministerio de Cultura","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/title/chango-el-gran-putas/oclc/879738826&referer=brief_results","PQ 8179 .Z38 C53 2010","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Sube a bordo de esta novela como uno de los tantos millones de africanos prisioneros en las naos negreras; y siéntete libre aunque te aten las cadenas.</p> <p>¡Desnúdate!</p> <p>Cualesquiera que sean tu raza, cultura o clase, no olvides que pisas la tierra de América, el Nuevo Mundo, la aurora de la nueva humanidad. Por lo tanto hazte niño. Si encuentras fantasmas extraños —palabra, personaje, trama— tómalos como un desafío a tu imaginación. Olvídate de la academia, de los tiempos verbales, de las fronteras que separan la vida de la muerte, porque en esta saga no hay más huella que la que tú dejes: eres el prisionero, el descubridor, el fundador, el libertador.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/XAGIK85H/chango-el-gran-putas-manuel-zapata.jpg","","","Fiction; African diaspora","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1983","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"BZSKI2E9","book","1949","Brindis de Salas, Virginia","Cien cárceles de amor","","","","","https://ia601705.us.archive.org/33/items/cien-carceles-de-amor-virginia-brindis-de-salas/Cien%20c%C3%A1rceles%20de%20amor%20-%20Virginia%20Brindis%20de%20Salas.pdf","","1949","2022-04-01 15:28:56","2022-04-01 15:33:31","","","52","","","","","","","","","","Compañía Impresora","Montevideo","spa","","","Autores UY","https://archive.org/details/autores","https://www.worldcat.org/title/cien-carceles-de-amor/oclc/16856042&referer=brief_results","","Uruguay","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Me cabe el cañaveral</p> <p>en cuatro dedos de ron.</p> <p>Poco paga el yanqui ya</p> <p>por este millón de canas</p> <p>que el negro sembró y corto.</p> <p>Mas no me trago este trago,</p> <p>porque es trago de sudor.</p> <p>Aquí el borracho es marino,</p> <p>pero si se pone a andar</p> <p>se ve que es de tierra el mar.</p> <p>La ola suelta de un trago</p> <p>aquí siempre es de huracán</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/VNGH56QJ/cien_carceles_virginia_Morel.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1949","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"T2MRNEZA","book","2003","Morejón, Nancy; Cordones-Cook, Juanamaría; Abudu, Gabriel; Frye, David; Abraham Hall, Nancy; Quintanales, Mirta; Sievert, Heather Rosario; Weaver, Kathleen","Looking within: selected poems","","978-0-8143-3037-1","","","","","2003","2022-04-24 00:29:22","2022-05-20 20:14:09","","","367","","","","","Looking within: selected poems, 1954-2000 = Mirar adentro : poemas escogidos, 1954-2000","tr","","","","Wayne State University Press","Detroit, EEUU","eng;spa","","","","","https://www.worldcat.org/title/looking-within-selected-poems-mirar-adentro-poemas-escogidos-1954-2000/oclc/977785762&referer=brief_results","PQ 7390 .M68 A25 2003","Cuba","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Yesterday, she did not understand mathematics</p> <p>but she read with pleasure a history of Africa</p> <p>where they talked about</p> <p>slave trafficking and galleons.</p> <p>Today, he founded a baseball team</p> <p>and he donated blood at the small provincial hospital.</p> <p>She ran a whole course</p> <p>and he went to buy tasty clams</p> <p>at a market.</p> <p>He dreamt about Indian women all doing laundry at the riverbank.</p> <p>She went to the icebox</p> <p>and, with an almost forbidden pleasure,</p> <p>she devoured the clams that he had bought</p> <p>at the market.</p> <p>It is ten past four in the afternoon.</p> <p>Both are looking through the same lens</p> <p>and they have shared the same hope.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/HNDLQPKI/looking.jpg","","","Morejón, Nancy, 1944-; Translations into English","","","","Cordones-Cook, Juanamaría; Abudu, Gabriel; Frye, David; Abraham Hall, Nancy; Quintanales, Mirta; Sievert, Heather Rosario; Weaver, Kathleen","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","2003","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"EACI2P8E","book","2020","Zapata Olivella, Manuel","Detrás del rostro","","","","","https://ia601503.us.archive.org/5/items/detras-del-rostro/Detr%C3%A1s%20del%20rostro.pdf","","2020","2022-04-01 23:18:55","2022-05-20 20:13:27","","","","","","","","","","","","","Universidad del Valle","Bogotá","spa","","","Biblioteca Virtual del Banco de la República","https://babel.banrepcultural.org/","https://www.worldcat.org/search?q=detr%C3%A1s+del+rostro+zapata+olivella&qt=results_page","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""8""><p>Oía otra voz. No era la suya. Parecía que el doctor Jáuregui le hablaba:</p> <p>—Usted desea dar a Estanislao cuanto ha perdido: padres, hermanos..., un hogar. Ese fingido altruismo le oculta su verdadero deseo: el de tener un hijo nuevo. Así se identifica con su padre. Quiere pagarle el daño inferido al causar la muerte de su madre al nacer. Pero sus pensamientos conscientes son otros. Sustituir al padre de Estanislao, cuando en realidad se gratifica a sí mismo. Dice: ""A este niño le han asesinado a sus parientes, le devolveré lo que le han quitado"". Brillante oportunidad para descargarse de una antiquísima culpabilidad que lo ultraja desde su infanci</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/QUJLRF4Z/detras-del-rostro-manuel-zapata.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1960","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"P3SECSIV","book","1877","Obeso, Candelario","Cantos populares de mi tierra","","","","","https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044050492222&view=1up&seq=7&skin=2021","","1877","2022-03-27 23:32:14","2022-05-20 20:12:45","2022-03-27 23:32:14","","70","","","","","","","","","","Imprenta de Borda","Bogotá","spa","","","HathiTrust","http://hathitrust.org","https://www.worldcat.org/search?q=cantos+populares+de+mi+tierra+candelario&qt=results_page","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""6""><p>La noche re una fietas </p> <p>Re Pura i limpia.</p> <p>Caliente taba er baile;</p> <p>Yo retraío,</p> <p>Lleno e la timirece</p> <p>Re un barba-limpio;</p> <p>Maj re repente</p> <p>Vire ciecta picúa</p> <p>Re arto copete.</p> <p>Me enamoré ar momento</p> <p>Re su gacvéza,</p> <p>I junto no soplamos</p> <p>Entre la ruea, </p> <p>A bailá un porro</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/3IRW9MHA/populares.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1877","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"ST73HRT6","book","2020","Zapata Olivella, Manuel","La calle 10","","","","","https://idartesencasa.gov.co/sites/default/files//libros_pdf/LAV_151_La_calle_10_BD.pdf","","2020","2022-03-27 23:15:41","2022-05-20 20:11:08","","","","","","","","","","","","","Instituto Distrital de las Artes","Cali, Colombia","spa","","","Instituto Distrital de las Artes","https://idartesencasa.gov.co/literatura","https://www.worldcat.org/search?q=la+calle+10&qt=results_page","","Colombia","<div data-schema-version=""6""><p>Saturnina, la que quiso mucho, la buena compañera, había ido a parar al anfiteatro. No se resignó a su suerte y se dispuso a reclamarla. Su mujercita debía ser sepultada. No estaba sola en el mundo. Lo tenía a él y a su hijo. ¿Por qué la iban a descuartizar en el anfiteatro? Dando traspiés, sin resistencia, se dejó arrastrar por el caudal humano de la calle 10. Las rejas metálicas de la facultad estaban abiertas; no había nadie que le impidiera la entrada y ensimismado penetró por el amplio patio. Llegó a las gradas de la escalera y subió hasta el corredor con el cuerpo de Froilán en sus brazos.</p> <p>—¿A dónde va?</p> <p>El conserje le atadó tirándolo de la ruana.</p> <p>—Vengo a buscar a mi mujer que la tienen en el anfiteatro.</p> <p>—¿Quién es su mujer?</p> <p>—¡Una muerta, debe estar entera todavía, murió esta mañana! </p> <p>—Aquí no hay muertos enteros. ¡Salga!</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/EGJT4P7R/LAV_151_La_calle_10_BD.jpg","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1960","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""
+"SF4S3HQQ","book","1990","Britos Serrat, Alberto","Antología de poetas negros uruguayos","","","","","https://ia802303.us.archive.org/6/items/seleccion-autores-afrolatinos/Antolog%C3%ADa%20de%20poetas%20negros%20uruguayos.pdf","","1990","2022-03-27 23:03:36","2022-05-20 20:10:24","","","119","","","","","","Colección Mundo Afro","","","","Ediciones Mundo Afro","Montevideo","spa","","","Centro Afrocolombiano de Espiritualidad y Desarrollo Integral","https://www.centroafrobogota.com","https://www.worldcat.org/title/antologia-de-poetas-negros-uruguayos/oclc/499041961?referer=br&ht=edition","PQ 8516 .A581 1990","Uruguay","<div data-schema-version=""6""><p>Encerrémonos en nosotros</p> <p>hermano negro</p> <p>y bebamos nuestro vino,</p> <p>en afán de evadirnos</p> <p>de toda hostilidad.</p> <p>Hermano negro</p> <p>el vino es bueno</p> <p>y para nosotros</p> <p>blasfemar es malo,</p> <p>y as ansias</p> <p>nos enferman de impotencia</p> <p>al quebrarnos</p> <p>en nuestras vidas sin ecos.</p> </div>","/run/media/febres/TOSHIBA EXT/Data/Zotero/storage/ENDE8L2M/portadas_4-22-2022_poetas-negros.jpg","","","Poets, Black; Uruguay; Uruguayan poetry","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","1990","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","","",""