Hallowe’en: a-haunting in the ‘hood / El día de la Víspera de Todos los Santos: appariciones en el barrio
Posted: October 31, 2011 Filed under: IMAGES Comments Off on Hallowe’en: a-haunting in the ‘hood / El día de la Víspera de Todos los Santos: appariciones en el barrio
Macumba Words: Aimé Césaire
Posted: October 26, 2011 Filed under: Aimé Césaire, English, French, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Macumba Words: Aimé Césaire
ZP_Aimé Césaire dans les années 1930
Macumba-Word
.
A word can be father to a saint,
words are the mothers of saints,
with a word that both chases and caresses one can
cross a river peopled by caïmans.
Sometimes I sketch a word on the sun,
with a cool, fresh word one spans a desert
in a day.
There are life-buoy words that ward off squalls,
there are iguana-words,
there are delicate words – phantom stick-insect words.
And those shadow-words
when one awakes in a rage of flying sparks.
There are Shango words.
And sometimes I swim slyly – playfully –
upon the back of a dolphin-word.
. . .
Glossary:
Macumba – an African (Bantu) word generally meaning “magic”
caïmans – a species of crocodile found in the Caribbean, Central and
South America; hunts along riverbanks
Shango – god of fire, thunder and lightning, from West-African religion
– mainly Yoruba; survived “The Middle Passage”, and is venerated in
Haitian vodou (voodoo) and Brazilian candomblé.
dolphin – perhaps a reference to two ‘dolphins’:
‘dauphin’ as in ‘Dauphin’, the old heir-apparent to France’s throne +
the notion of “correct” French;
also the Boto (Amazon River dolphin) of Afro-Brazilian religion
. . . . .
Mot-Macumba
.
Le mot est père des saints
le mot est mère des saints
avec le mot couresse on peut traverser un fleuve
peuplé de caïmans
Il m’arrive de dessiner un mot sur le sol
avec un mot frais on peut traverser le désert
d’une journée
Il y a des mots bâton-de-nage pour écarter les squales
il y a des mots iguanes
il y a des mots subtils ce sont des mots phasmes
il y a des mots d’ombre avec des réveils en colère
d’étincelles
Il y a des mots Shango
Il m’arrive de nager de ruse sur le dos d’un mot dauphin.
. . .
Aimé Césaire (1913-2008) was born and died in Martinique,
yet he was a man of the world. In his poetry and plays, both
full of hope and strength, he promoted decolonization
throughout the island-countries of the Caribbean. From
the geography and customs of those same islands he
drew much of his imagery – as in the poem featured above.
English translation: Alexander Best.
*
Aimé Césaire (1913-2008) était un Martiniquais, aussi
un homme du monde. Dans sa poésie et son théâtre, et avec
de l’espérance et puissance, il a promis la décolonisation des
pays caraïbes. Ses paroles sont fondées sur la géographie et
les coutumes de ces mêmes îles. Par exemple: le poème ici…
Traduction en anglais: Alexander Best
Kettly Mars: Defiance of Oblivion
Posted: October 26, 2011 Filed under: English, French, Kettly Mars, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Kettly Mars: Defiance of Oblivion
ZP_Kettly Mars_2011
Behind the door
.
Sweet sentinel, you keep watch
over the shadows of my room.
This evening my dreams depart
for the north. Toward the sea.
Gentle candle, gentle
flame, under your tears of light
wood, stone, copper and glass
cloaked in golden silence
bathed in the same mystery.
. . .
Derrière la porte
.
Douce sentinelle, tu veilles
sur les ombres de la chambre.
Ce soir mes rêves partent
vers le nord. Vers la mer.
Douce bougie, douce
flamme, sous tes larmes de lumière
bois, pierre, cuivre et verre
enveloppés d’or silencieux
baignent dans le même mystère.
. . .
My hand and the stone
.
My hand and the stone,
sage rebellion of noble particles
gripped in my palm.
I’ve made my own her reality:
grey, heavy, oval.
Millenial stone
whose cry
lays claim to nothing other than a
defiance of oblivion.
. . .
Ma main et la pierre
.
Ma main et la pierre,
sage rébellion de particules
tenant dans ma paume.
J’ai fait mienne sa réalité
grise, lourde et ovale.
Pierre millénaire
jusqu’en son cri
elle ne se prétend autre chose
qu’un défi à l’oubli.
. . . . .
Kettly Mars est née en 1958.
Un romancier à le proue de la littérature haïtienne,
elle est aussi un poète. Les poèmes ici viennent de
son recueil de 2011, Feulements et sanglots.
Traductions: Alexander Best
*
Kettly Mars, born in 1958, is a novelist
at the forefront of Haitian literature.
She is a poet as well, and these poems
are from her 2011 collection, Growls and Sobs.
Translations into English: Alexander Best
Haitian Creole: Five Poets
Posted: October 22, 2011 Filed under: Creole / Kréyòl | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Haitian Creole: Five Poets
Alexander Akao (Aleksann Akao)
Zombies Arise
Since I was a kid they’ve been choking me
They grab me, they stuff me into a barrel
Too small for me
They stuff me into a dart-gun
They squash me like a mango
They squash me like a banana
They refuse to let me open my mouth
To speak my mind
“You got nothing to say, you’re a kid !”
But when I’m walking I’m looking around
I see everyone at my side
Is in the same fix as me
They’re burying us all alive
They’re stuffing us in the earth
Like slaves locked up in a canefield
When it’s not a horsewhip, papa,
Making us walk a straight line
It’s a tonton macoute* gun
That gestapoes or SDs ** us
But this morning I wake up
With salt on my tongue
Nothing’s gonna stop me from speaking out !
(1980)
* tonton macoute – paramilitary force,
including Duvalier bodyguards, involved in
organized crime; terrorized the Haitian
people, committing many human-rights abuses
** SD – Service d’Information:
Haiti president/dictator Jean-Claude Duvalier’s secret police
_____
Zonbi Leve
Depi m’piti y’ape toufe mwen
Yo pran-m, yo foure-m nan yon barik
Ki twò piti pou mwen
Yo foure-m nan sabakann
Yo toufe-m tankou mango
Yo toufe-m tankou bannann
Yo refize kite-m ouvri bouch mwen
Pou m’eksprime sa mwen panse
“Ou pa gen lapawòl, se timoun ou ye”
Men lè m’mache m’al gade
Mwen wè se tout moun ki sou kote-m
Ki nan menm eta sa-a avè-m
Yo antere-n tou vivan
Yo toufe-n nan tè-a
Tankou esklav te fèmen nan jaden kann
Lè se pa rigwaz papa
Pou fè-m mache SS
Se fizi tonton makout
K’ap gestapo, k’ap SD nou
Men maten-an mwen leve
Ak sèl sou lang mwen
Pa gen anyen ki ka anpeche-m pale !
(1980)
ZP_Wilson Bigaud_”Zonbi”
Suze Baron (Siz Bawon)
They say
They say
human blood
enriches the soil
If it were so
if it were so
my friends
rice millet and corn
would be plenty
in Haiti.
_____
Yo di
Yo di
san kretyen
enrichi
latè
Si sete vre
Si sete vre
mezanmi
ala diri
pitimi
ak mayi
ki ta genyen
lan peyi
d’ Ayiti.
_____
Georges Castera (Jòj Kastra), born 1936
Blood
Let’s go see blood flow,
darling.
For once in a lifetime,
it’s not people’s blood spilling,
for once in the street
it’s not animal’s blood flowing,
let’s go see blood flow,
darling:
the sun is setting.
_____
San
An n’al gade san koule,
cheri
pou yon fwa nan lavi,
se pa san moun k’ap koule,
pou yon fwa nan lari
se pa san bèt k’ap koule,
an n’al gade san koule,
cheri,
se solèy ki pral kouche.
_____
Felix Morisseau-Leroy (Feliks Moriso-Lewa), 1913-1998
Testament
When I die, make me a beautiful wake
I’m going neither to paradise nor to hell
Don’t let a priest speak Latin to my head
When I die, bury me in the yard
Gather all my friends, make a big feast
Don’t go past the church with my corpse
When I die, everyone should really get happy
Laugh, sing, dance, tell jokes
Don’t bawl, yell into my ear
I won’t be completely done when I’m dead
All the places where there were great bashes,
Where people are free – they’ll remember me.
Testaman
Lè m’mouri, fè bèl vèy pou mwen
M’pa pral ni nan paradi ni nan lanfè
Pinga pè pale laten nan tèt mwen.
Lè m’mouri, antere mwen nan lakou-a
Rasanble tout zanmi-m fè bèl fèt
Pinga pase legliz ak kadav mwen
Lè m’mouri, se pou tout moun byen ge
Ri, chante, danse, bay blag
Pinga kriye, rele nan zòrèy mwen
Lè m’mouri, m’pa p’fin ale nèt
tout kote k’ganyen bèl banbòch
Kote nèg lib, fò yo nonmen non mwen.
_____
Nounous (Lenous Surprice), born 1976
If you want
Every time I see you
You always have something
That tickles the crotch of my pants…
If it’s not your breasts
Making “sparks fly”
Before my eyes
It’s your gilded pout
Sticking its tongue out to tease me…
If you want
One day
I can take my time
And sing a mass
Into your daybreak
Every time I cross your path
It seems you purposely
Get my “sleeping cat”,
My “wild horse”, stirred up…
When your hip-swing
Isn’t calling out: “sweets are coming”
To my tray of goodies
It’s your blesséd bonbons
Making my mouth of rainbows
Water…
One day
If you want
I’ll display the musical score
Of my body
On the naked piano of yours.
ZP_Wilson Bigaud_”Femmes aux fleurs jaunes”
Si W-Vle
Chak fwa mwen wè-w
Toujou gen youn bagay
Ki pou ap satiyèt gason kanson-m…
Lè se pa tet-w
K’ap fè “tidifevole”
Douvan je-m
Se dyòl dore-w
K’ap fè jwisans mwen filalang…
Si w-vle
Youn jou
M’ka pran tan-m
Pou m’chante lamès
Nan douvanjou-w.
Chak fwa m’kwaze-w
Ou ta di w-fè espre
Pou w-reveye “lechakidò”
Chwal bosal mwen…
Lè se pa deranchman-w
K’ap rele “ladouskivyen”
Pou machann kenèp mwen
Se bonbon beni-w
K’ap fè bouch lakansyèl mwen
Kouri dlo…
Youn jou
Si w-vle
M’a layite nòt mizik
Kò pa-m
Sou pyano toutouni kò pa-w.
_____
Reprinted from:
Open Gate: an Anthology of Haitian Creole Poetry,
edited by Paul Laraque and Jack Hirschman, 2001.
Translations: Jack Hirschman and Boadiba
