![recorrido_-_maria-35.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmdYRHdAFikQnjid3daU8CmnvQ3bmQoxzHFRTRa15FqcA5/recorrido_-_maria-35.jpg) In the 1900s, in Venezuela and even in other countries, you may notice a smell of many taboos, many secrets customized by a society where detailed or at least well paraphrased carnal desires could not be divulged without having fingers pointed around. So, it was the time when María Calcaño was born in 1906 in the warm arms of the city of Maracaibo. Life in those times was not easy for a lady, it was full of strict traditions and social-patriarchal paradigms. Even more difficult, it became when this incursion into a literary world close to erotic works, where desire was a living protagonist marked by the sensations lived in each centimeter of the skin. Even though this is the context, it was not enough to stop the sprouting of suspicion and of good feminine and latent literary coordination in Mary. Simply everything in her was so natural, that although she was prey to the conditions of the time, an arranged marriage, the life of wife and later mother of 6 children; it was not enough to stop her love of writing. It is for this reason that in 1935 his first book entitled *Fatal Wings* was born; a writing impregnated with eroticism and sexuality that pointed to pleasant actions, characteristic of femininity and liberated from being only a matter of masculine pleasure.

Excerpt from " Fatal Wings " (1935).

A living dream

Man! What have you done to me? What did you give me to drink in a kiss that I have in my chest joy and pain? Dreaming and solar...; but to be awake and stunned of this deep, painful pleasure. And I'm on my knees crying on the cheeks. Salty, as a new port that hits the sea!

The struggles and traditions of those years simply could not understand the creative currents described by the poet. A low acceptance of both social and family circles, coupled with the pointing out by many, led to the fact that she will leave the beloved country and settle in Ecuador. At this stage of her life also culminates the relationship with her husband Juan Roncajolo, who in addition to having been older than her, was also an alcoholic. As the years went by, writing continued, nothing that had happened could have influenced the distillation of inspiration where Eros reigned. After a time of absence from his country in 1940, he decides to return to Venezuela. Later a small circle of readers is integrated in a not perennial way, in this stage his amorous life painted a new opportunity since he knows a writer called **Hector Araujo O.** In the year 1953, it is where he contracts again marriage, and is limited to raise a nephew of his husband. In addition to her first book, she wrote two more, one entitled *"Songs My Last Dolls Heard "* which was released in 1956. However everything was not happiness, in this same year she is diagnosed with lung cancer and losing the battle with such a devastating disease dies. Her other book is titled *"Between the moon and men "* (1961), she was given birth years after her death, being her husband who encourages the publication of the same one, obviously it was posthumous. It is truly regrettable that the works of the first Venezuelan poet were covered by a society that did not understand this new awakening of literature, an outcrop of modernity accompanied by subtle descriptive and passionate verses. However, it is a treasure to have among the range of writers a woman who did not let herself be silenced or separated from her most faithful love, writing.

Excerpt from "Songs My Last Dolls Heard" (1956).

I'd forgotten the dolls for coming with him. On tiptoes, holding my breath I walked away from my rag girls. for not waking them up... He was going to hang me by his arm, to sing and dance and feel close to him: as if to life he was born dreamy! I was not wearing a crown, but my hands were full of flowery field vines, of joy, of love, of fragrances. Many nights passed over of that sacred purity. All the sky turned over to us! I had forgotten the dolls. Now he is gone. The same. Slowly, for not waking up...

Excerpt from " Between the moon and men (1961)".

Primer espanto de la niña con luna

I see this springing up inside me, and I kneel. And I almost said prayers, naming the dead father with a long and strange gesture... As from distant countries they come ringing stones. And tiny spiders by grape rumors. And mine explosions! Also children inside my heart... My skirt swirls, rises like a ship, signaling of joy in the night. As I continue to cry..., Raising his arms so high, that the breasts disappear in the wind. On my shoulders the night trembles; a gallows to move in the air two moons. A strange fear approaches me. And I feel like a woman, Delicious woman! >This post is a translation of its original [Spanish version](https://celfmagazine.ml/2019/07/13/recorrido-1-maria-calcano/), and represents an UPDATE for our [Crowdfounding Fundition Campaign.](https://fundition.io/#!/@celfditorial/co4oqxq1w/news) >**Building trust in a multi-language community** >In order to receive upvotes funding from @fundition, and sponsors who wish to join our project, we will translate the editorial content as updates for our crowdfunding fundition campaign. > As the project gets underway and develops, we will seek, as far as possible, to work hand in hand with the English-speaking community, as we understand that our value proposition crosses the language barrier and should not be limited by it. *Learn more about @celfmagazine and @celfditorial*:

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Posted from my blog with SteemPress : http://celfmagazine.ml/2019/07/13/recorrido-1-maria-calcano/