Carlota Caulfield: Wingraphies and the Poetics of Birds
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Carlota Caulfield is the author of eleven books of poetry. Among them are Oscuridad divina (Premio Ultimo Novecento, Italy, 1988), Movimientos metálicos para juguetes abandonados (First Prize, Dulce María Loynaz, Spain, 2002), The Book of Giulio Camillo / El Libro de Giulio Camillo / Il Libro di Giulio Camillo (2003), A Mapmaker’s Diary: Selected Poems (2007), Cuaderno Neumeister / The Neumeister Notebook (2016), and Los juguetes de Bertrand / Bertrand’s Toys (2019). Caulfield divides her time between the San Francisco Bay Area and New Mexico.
In this interview, we talk about her most recent work, Aligrafías / Wingraphies (a bilingual Spanish-English edition, translated by Sasha Reiter. Editor: Jesús J. Barquet. Design and illustrations: Dashel Hernández Guirado. Ediciones La Mirada, Las Cruces, New Mexico, 2025). DOVALPAGE: What was the inspiration for writing this beautiful book about the birds of New Mexico? At what point did you decide they would be your poetic subject, and why? CAULFIELD: My curiosity about birds isn’t new—it dates back to my childhood. That fascination with the extraordinary world of birds was rekindled four years ago when I read Jennifer Ackerman’s The Genius of Birds. I remember a summer afternoon in Berkeley when a blue jay began visiting the backyard. Little by little, it became a demanding and bold guest in search of peanuts. Then two crows arrived, with their intense caws and stunning plumage. |
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Without a doubt, corvus corax is one of the most intelligent birds in existence. Observing their habits became part of my daily routine. However, the poems in Wingraphies were born in New Mexico—not from writing, but from drawing. One day, out of the blue, I began sketching with a Japanese calligraphy brush pen a bird called the thrasher, a daily visitor to the garden of my house in New Mexico. Then came the mourning doves and Inca doves, the hummingbirds, sparrows, finches, and even a roadrunner—my new models. I began looking for books about the diversity of birdlife in the desert, and from that research, the poems emerged. Each poem in Wingraphies delves into the unique traits of birds I’ve been able to observe closely. The book is composed of twenty-one poems of varying length and rhythm. I establish the tone of each poem with a free-form haiku that evokes the poetic space of the bird.
In one of the blurbs of the book, poet Marisela Duarte-Stern writes that the poems in Wingraphies “draw us into the mysterious wanderings and seductive chirps of these winged beings who have inspired so many artists throughout history.” In a way, my Wingraphies is an homage to Catullus, Chaucer, Blake, Poe, Yeats, Dickinson, Coleridge, Rilke, Whitman, Bishop, Coronado, Girondo, Prévert, Neruda, Hughes, Atwood, and Zapata—poets in communion with nature, who have beautifully celebrated the universe of birds.
DOVALPAGE: I completely agree with the blurb! While reading, I almost felt I could hear the birds chirping. And on top of that, I learned so much about them. As for the illustrations by Cuban artist Dashel Hernández Guirado, they complement the poems wonderfully. What was that process like? Did you two exchange ideas, or did you leave that entirely in the skilled hands of the artist?
CAULFIELD: Dashel Hernández Guirado is both a visual artist and a novelist. Jesús J. Barquet, La Mirada editor, had the brilliant idea of sending him my manuscript. At first, Jesús and I had considered using other illustrations, including some of my own, but they weren’t of high enough quality for reproduction, so we decided not to include them. Dashel, who has a strong knowledge of ornithology, became enthusiastic about my poems and proposed designing the birds based on details from 19th-century illustrations (Audubon, Gould, Le Vaillant, Bailey, Langlumé—all in the public domain). With great originality, he created the beautiful images that accompany each poem—there are 21 illustrations in all. The book cover is also one of his design successes. Yes, Jesús, Dash, and I exchanged many ideas—not only about the illustrations, but also about the overall book design. Barquet is a meticulous editor, and it is truly a pleasure to work with him. This is the second book I’ve published with Ediciones La Mirada. The first was JJ/CC, a book of poems by him and me.
DOVALPAGE: The entire book—from your opening “flutter,” the translator’s note, the poems (of course), and even the final notes—is presented in both Spanish and English. Why did you feel it was important to publish it in both languages?
CAULFIELD: Many of my books are bilingual editions, Spanish and English, so they can reach more readers. I also take great pleasure in expressing myself poetically within two familiar linguistic spaces.
DOVALPAGE: Spaces in which you move like a fish in water… or a bird in flight. And speaking of translation, I was truly impressed by how skillfully Sasha Reiter handles language to bring the essence of your poetry into English. As she herself rightly says, “everything is translation.” So here’s a question similar to the one I asked you about the illustrations: what was the translation process like?
CAULFIELD: I’ve been very fortunate to work with exceptional translators, including Angela McEwan, Mary G. Berg, and into Italian, Pietro Civitareale. My connection with Sasha Reiter began through her poetry. In 2018, I wrote an introductory note for her Choreographed in Uniform Distress / Coreografiados en uniforme zozobra, and I included her poems in one of my literature classes at Mills College at Northeastern University. In 2020, Sasha published Sensory Overload / Sobrecarga sensorial, and I interviewed her along with Jenny Irizary, then poetry editor at Somos en escrito. When I wrote Aligrafías, Sasha immediately came to mind as the ideal translator for my poems. I had already read her excellent translations of Peruvian poets Pedro Granados and Isaac Goldemberg.
The translation process with Sasha involved frequent exchanges via email. I’ll share with you a few words from her “Translator’s Note”:
“Discerning the truths within each poem, while reproducing its descriptive fervor and still communicating the personalities of each bird, became a game of truly getting to know each one of them and what they wanted to tell us. It was a game I could not play alone, without the help of the poet herself. Caulfield was an invaluable help during the entire process. Whether in questions of direct translation, of hidden meaning or preferences in tone, length and pace, Carlota and I poured over many lines, feeling out the words that better translated the character and nature of each bird, often prioritizing their message over a literal translation.”
DOVALPAGE: The way you prioritize the message and transmit the essence of the poems is beautifully achieved. I don’t think AI can ever compete with the human touch. This book clearly bears the mark of two poets. Now, going back to the birds—you mention at the beginning that your fascination with them started at age seven with a pair of Java sparrows. Do you go on birdwatching trips these days? Do you keep any birds? Tell me a little about your current relationship with them.
CAULFIELD: Albert, an Irish ship captain, a good family friend, once came to our home in Havana, Cuba, with the pair of sparrows, I mention in “A brief flutter toward My Wingraphies” section of the book. I remember that later my father bought me a children’s bird guide in New York, which became one of my childhood treasures. Thanks to the Java sparrows and that illustrated book, I felt in love with birding—or birdwatching (I think it’s called pajarería in Spanish). Later, Greek and Roman mythologies turned me into a passionate admirer of owls. My birding habits evolved.
Although there isn’t a single poem about an owl in Wingraphies—I haven’t seen any in New Mexico—owls are the subject of many of my drawings. I just finished reading Owl Sense by Miriam Darlington, a true gem for anyone wanting to learn about these unique creatures. The disappearance of bird species that cannot survive environmental changes is deeply concerning.
I don’t own any birds, but I get plenty of visitors. I mentioned the thrasher earlier—my favorite. I see it daily when I’m in New Mexico, and I love sketching it. I don’t go on birdwatching excursions or belong to any birding groups—maybe someday. I’d like to be able to identify the songs of different birds more precisely and to learn more about their habitats. My current relationship with birds is contemplative and artistic.
DOVALPAGE: That’s fascinating, especially what you said about owls. I only ever saw them up north, when I lived in Taos. Well, thank you so much, Carlota, for this interview and for everything you’ve shared about pajarería. May your Wingraphies soar far and wide!
In one of the blurbs of the book, poet Marisela Duarte-Stern writes that the poems in Wingraphies “draw us into the mysterious wanderings and seductive chirps of these winged beings who have inspired so many artists throughout history.” In a way, my Wingraphies is an homage to Catullus, Chaucer, Blake, Poe, Yeats, Dickinson, Coleridge, Rilke, Whitman, Bishop, Coronado, Girondo, Prévert, Neruda, Hughes, Atwood, and Zapata—poets in communion with nature, who have beautifully celebrated the universe of birds.
DOVALPAGE: I completely agree with the blurb! While reading, I almost felt I could hear the birds chirping. And on top of that, I learned so much about them. As for the illustrations by Cuban artist Dashel Hernández Guirado, they complement the poems wonderfully. What was that process like? Did you two exchange ideas, or did you leave that entirely in the skilled hands of the artist?
CAULFIELD: Dashel Hernández Guirado is both a visual artist and a novelist. Jesús J. Barquet, La Mirada editor, had the brilliant idea of sending him my manuscript. At first, Jesús and I had considered using other illustrations, including some of my own, but they weren’t of high enough quality for reproduction, so we decided not to include them. Dashel, who has a strong knowledge of ornithology, became enthusiastic about my poems and proposed designing the birds based on details from 19th-century illustrations (Audubon, Gould, Le Vaillant, Bailey, Langlumé—all in the public domain). With great originality, he created the beautiful images that accompany each poem—there are 21 illustrations in all. The book cover is also one of his design successes. Yes, Jesús, Dash, and I exchanged many ideas—not only about the illustrations, but also about the overall book design. Barquet is a meticulous editor, and it is truly a pleasure to work with him. This is the second book I’ve published with Ediciones La Mirada. The first was JJ/CC, a book of poems by him and me.
DOVALPAGE: The entire book—from your opening “flutter,” the translator’s note, the poems (of course), and even the final notes—is presented in both Spanish and English. Why did you feel it was important to publish it in both languages?
CAULFIELD: Many of my books are bilingual editions, Spanish and English, so they can reach more readers. I also take great pleasure in expressing myself poetically within two familiar linguistic spaces.
DOVALPAGE: Spaces in which you move like a fish in water… or a bird in flight. And speaking of translation, I was truly impressed by how skillfully Sasha Reiter handles language to bring the essence of your poetry into English. As she herself rightly says, “everything is translation.” So here’s a question similar to the one I asked you about the illustrations: what was the translation process like?
CAULFIELD: I’ve been very fortunate to work with exceptional translators, including Angela McEwan, Mary G. Berg, and into Italian, Pietro Civitareale. My connection with Sasha Reiter began through her poetry. In 2018, I wrote an introductory note for her Choreographed in Uniform Distress / Coreografiados en uniforme zozobra, and I included her poems in one of my literature classes at Mills College at Northeastern University. In 2020, Sasha published Sensory Overload / Sobrecarga sensorial, and I interviewed her along with Jenny Irizary, then poetry editor at Somos en escrito. When I wrote Aligrafías, Sasha immediately came to mind as the ideal translator for my poems. I had already read her excellent translations of Peruvian poets Pedro Granados and Isaac Goldemberg.
The translation process with Sasha involved frequent exchanges via email. I’ll share with you a few words from her “Translator’s Note”:
“Discerning the truths within each poem, while reproducing its descriptive fervor and still communicating the personalities of each bird, became a game of truly getting to know each one of them and what they wanted to tell us. It was a game I could not play alone, without the help of the poet herself. Caulfield was an invaluable help during the entire process. Whether in questions of direct translation, of hidden meaning or preferences in tone, length and pace, Carlota and I poured over many lines, feeling out the words that better translated the character and nature of each bird, often prioritizing their message over a literal translation.”
DOVALPAGE: The way you prioritize the message and transmit the essence of the poems is beautifully achieved. I don’t think AI can ever compete with the human touch. This book clearly bears the mark of two poets. Now, going back to the birds—you mention at the beginning that your fascination with them started at age seven with a pair of Java sparrows. Do you go on birdwatching trips these days? Do you keep any birds? Tell me a little about your current relationship with them.
CAULFIELD: Albert, an Irish ship captain, a good family friend, once came to our home in Havana, Cuba, with the pair of sparrows, I mention in “A brief flutter toward My Wingraphies” section of the book. I remember that later my father bought me a children’s bird guide in New York, which became one of my childhood treasures. Thanks to the Java sparrows and that illustrated book, I felt in love with birding—or birdwatching (I think it’s called pajarería in Spanish). Later, Greek and Roman mythologies turned me into a passionate admirer of owls. My birding habits evolved.
Although there isn’t a single poem about an owl in Wingraphies—I haven’t seen any in New Mexico—owls are the subject of many of my drawings. I just finished reading Owl Sense by Miriam Darlington, a true gem for anyone wanting to learn about these unique creatures. The disappearance of bird species that cannot survive environmental changes is deeply concerning.
I don’t own any birds, but I get plenty of visitors. I mentioned the thrasher earlier—my favorite. I see it daily when I’m in New Mexico, and I love sketching it. I don’t go on birdwatching excursions or belong to any birding groups—maybe someday. I’d like to be able to identify the songs of different birds more precisely and to learn more about their habitats. My current relationship with birds is contemplative and artistic.
DOVALPAGE: That’s fascinating, especially what you said about owls. I only ever saw them up north, when I lived in Taos. Well, thank you so much, Carlota, for this interview and for everything you’ve shared about pajarería. May your Wingraphies soar far and wide!
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