Friday, July 11, 2008

Analect 2.308x



11 Julio 2008. Dia de cielo gris-amarillo, algo de sol viniendo de las colinas. De las colinas--algo cierto en la vida. Un montón de piedra, barro, tierra misma.

Una joven india--Guaraní. Ojos de morocha, ámbar, con fuego adentro. Monte, llanura, rio lento y paciente--como las aguas del Paraguay, los arboles de Corrientes. Leyendo Shakespeare, parece. Lo de King Lear. "Mejor me gusta Edmund," dice. "Ve las cosas como son." ("Why bastard? Wherefore base?") Agarra a lo vivo--eso--de los hombros, del cuello. "...una loca que no entinde nada de la vida..."

Cosas del campo. Rebenque, chambergo, tipo tosco. Con miradas del lado, quemado por el sol, por el viento. Entendiendo nada, entendiendo todo...

Yo soy arisco, como tus breñas,
y así te canto, tierra querida.

Andaré por los cerros,
selvas y llanos, toda la vida,
arrimándole coplas
a tu esperanza, tierra querida.

2 comments:

Anthony Dubovsky said...

TRANSLATION

11 July 2008. A day of yellow-gray skies, with a bit of sun from the hills. From the hills--something certain in life. A heap of rock and mud and earth itself.

Young Indian--Guaraní. Eyes of a dark one, amber, with fire inside. Mountains, plains, a river slow and patient--like the waters of Paraguay, the forests of Corrientes. Reading Shakespeare, it seems. King Lear. "I like Edmund best," she proclaims. "He sees things as they are." "Why bastard? Wherefore base?" Grabbing what's alive--that's it--by the shoulders, the neck. "...a crazy girl who understands nothing of life..."

Things of the countryside. Rebenque (riding crop), chamberg hat. A rough sort. Glances from the side, burned by the sun, the wind. Understanding nothing, understanding all...


I'm tough, like your chaparral,
and so I sing to you, beloved land.

I make my way through your hillsides,
forests and open spaces, all my life,
bringing you verses
for your hope, tierra querida.


(From Argentina's Atahualpa Yupanqui)

Anthony Dubovsky said...
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