Hector Poullet: “Mi yo doubout an péyi-la…” / “Standing tall in our country…”
Posted: February 29, 2012 Filed under: Creole / Kréyòl, English, French, Hector Poullet | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Hector Poullet: “Mi yo doubout an péyi-la…” / “Standing tall in our country…”
Hector Poullet (né/born 1938)
(Écrivain noir, créoliste, de La Guadeloupe
/ Black Creole-language writer, Guadeloupe)
E mi sé ti moun péyi-la
Mi yo
Mi yo doubout an péyi-la
An mitan lanmé
An mitan soley
Yo la
Po nwè
Po jonn
Po rouj
Po shapé
Po blan
Nou byen fouté pa mal !
Nou sa sé zenfan péyi-la
Sé swé a yo ki ka rozé péyi-la
_____
Voici les enfants du pays, Here are the children of the country,
Les voici, Here they are,
Les voici érigés au pays, Standing tall in our country,
Au coeur même de la mer, With hearts as much of the sea as sun.
Au coeur même du soleil.
Ils sont là There they are: the
Peaux noires Black skins, yellows,
Peaux jaunes Red skins and shedded skins,
Peaux rouges White skins, too.
Peaux échappées et
Peaux blanches
Quelle importance ! And it’s so important –
Ce sont, nous le savons, That they are – and we know it –
Les fils de ce pays; The children of this country;
Leur sueur nourrit la terre de ce pays! Their sweat nourishes this earth!
_____
Etta James: “Mi Fuerte Amante” / “Tough Lover”
Posted: February 28, 2012 Filed under: English: Black Canadian / American, Etta James, Spanish, Translator's Whimsy: Song Lyrics / Extravagancia del traductor: Letras de canciones traducidas por Alexander Best, ZP Translator: Lidia García Garay Comments Off on Etta James: “Mi Fuerte Amante” / “Tough Lover”
Etta James
“Mi Fuerte Amante” (1956)
Tengo un amante que me mueve tanto,
Sabe hacer ‘el rocanrol’,
Porque es fuerte – mi amante –
Es un amante vigoroso,
Amante recio,
Un amante fuerte – ¡eso es!
*
Cuando me besa,
Me emociona;
Cuando se sacude,
No me quedo quieta.
Es un amante vigoroso,
Amante recio,
Un amante fuerte – ¡aaah, sííí!
*
Las Siete Hermanas no lo pueden tener,
Estoy hablando acerca del Amor –
Y es veloz – él – como el viento.
Habla la gente que estoy enbrujada.
Pero no es el vudú – ¡es ese “twist”!
El Amante más grande de nuestra era,
Aún Don Juan no tiene ningun’esperanza.
Te hace reír,
Te hace llorar,
Se pone tan recio que
Pued’hacer a un’estatua de Venus resucitar.
Hace todo lo que quiera – aún:
Pisotear los zapatos de gamuza-azul de Jesse James.
Es un amante audaz,
y duro, y recio,
Un amante fuerte – ¡ajá, ajá!
*
¿Tienes amante que quieras amar?
¡Golpéale en la cabeza una vez – o dos!
Será tu amante vigoroso – ¡sí, sí! –
Un amante recio – ¡eso es!
Un amante fuerte – ¡aaah, sííí!
Glosario:
Las Siete Hermanas se llaman Las Pléyades – en la mitología griega.
Las dos más famosas – Electra y Maia – eran “Fuerzas de la Naturaleza”.
Jesse James era un forajido estadounidense de la era “Viejo Oeste”.
_____
Etta James (1938-2012)
escribió las letras y grabó esta canción
en 1956 – a la edad tierna de dieciocho años.
Su personalidad era fuerte y burlona pero pudo
cantar también la música íntima del Blues.
*
Traducción / interpretación en español: Lidia García Garay
_____
Etta James
“Tough Lover” (1956)
Well, I’ve got a lover that moves me so
He sho knows how to rock’n’roll
‘Cause he’s a tough lover – yeah, yeah
He’s a tough lover – wooooo
Tough Lover – yeah, yeah
Tough Lover – unh hunh!
*
When he kisses me
I get a thrill
But when he does that wiggle
I can’t keep still
‘Cause he’s a tough lover – yeah, yeah
He’s a tough lover – wooooo!
Tough Lover – yeah, yeah
Tough Lover – unh hunh!
*
The Seven Sisters have nothin’ on him
I’m talkin’ about love – and he’s fast as the wind
People all talk about he’s got me fixed
It ain’t hoodoo – it’s just that twist!
He’s the greatest lover ever come to pass
Don Juan ain’t got a half of a chance.
He can make you laugh
He can make you cry
He’s so tough he’ll make Venus come alive.
He can do anything that he wants to do –
Step on Jesse James’s blue-suede shoes
‘Cause he’s a tough lover – yeah, yeah
He’s a tough lover – wooooo!
Tough Lover – yeah, yeah
Tough Lover – unh hunh!
*
You got a lover
That you wanna love right?
Just pop him ’side the head
– Once or twice!
He’ll be a tough lover – yeah, yeah
He’ll be your tough lover – wooooo!
Tough lover – yeah, yeah
Tough lover – unh hunh!
_____
Etta James (1938-2012)
was a rock’n’roll “mama” even
at the tender age of 18, which is when she
wrote and recorded this song with her band,
The Peaches. Her vocal delivery was often
rough-and-tough in sound – but also full of
fun. The “wooooo’s” in her singing she
borrowed from Little Richard, with whom
she toured in the 1950s. By middle age she
was undisputedly the best living Blues singer
in The United States.
_____
Mildred Barya: “Una Gota de Sangre” / “A Drop of Blood”
Posted: February 23, 2012 Filed under: English, Mildred Barya, Spanish, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Black poets, Poetas negros Comments Off on Mildred Barya: “Una Gota de Sangre” / “A Drop of Blood”
Mildred Barya (nace 1976)
“Una Gota de Sangre”
El día que me llegó la regla
Exclamó mi madre:
“¡Ahora eres mujer!”
Entonces me pregunté:
¿Qué yo había sido antes?
¿Y cómo me ha hecho una mujer
Una gota de sangre?
*
Cuando llevaron a mi hermano al círculo,
Él se estremeció a la sensación de un cuchillo afilado.
Pero le convencieron:
“No debes tener miedo,
No muestres ninguna cobardía.
Tan pronto como te cortemos la piel
Te harás un hombre.”
*
Cuando mi madre tenía a Junior
Tan pesado en su vientre
Se apuraba de la mesa
Y corría al lavaplatos.
El día que le llevaron al hospital
Cayó al suelo una bolsa de agua
Pues una gota de sangre.
Gritó mi padre: “¡Mujer!”
*
Leí en Las Sagradas Escrituras
Como fue sacrificado el Hijo de Hombre.
Antes de dar su último aliento,
Manaron fuera de él
Agua y la sangre.
En este momento se hizo Hombre
Que era el Dios.
*
Supongo que haya algo en una gota de sangre
Que nos hace hombres y mujeres.
_____
Mildred Barya (born 1976)
“A Drop of Blood”
The day I got my first period,
Mother exclaimed:
“You’ve become a woman!”
And so I wondered,
What had I been earlier?
And how could a drop of blood
Make me a woman?
*
When they took my brother to the circle,
He flinched at the feel of a sharp knife.
But the elders convinced him:
“You must not fear
Do not show any cowardice
Once we slice off the skin
You become a man.”
*
When mother was heavy with Junior,
She would rush off the table
And run to the sink.
The day she was taken to hospital
A bag of water dropped to the ground,
Then a drop of blood.
Father cried: “Woman!”
*
I read in the Holy Scriptures
How the Son of Man was crucified
Before he breathed his last.
Water and blood flowed out,
There he became Man,
Who was God.
*
I guess there’s something in a drop of blood
That makes us men and women.
_____
Mildred Barya, poeta, nació en Uganda.
Ganó el Premio Pan-Africano del Foro Literário
en 2008. Barya también es periodista y escritor
de viaje. Vive en Syracuse, Nueva York, EEUU.
*
Poet Mildred Barya was born in Uganda.
She won the 2008 Prize of the Pan African
Literary Forum. Barya is also a journalist
and travel-writer. Currently she lives in
Syracuse, New York.
*
Translation from English into Spanish /
Traducción del inglés al español: Alexander Best
Poema para Miércoles de Ceniza / Ash Wednesday Poem
Posted: February 22, 2012 Filed under: English, Spanish, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Ash Wednesday poem, Poema para Miércoles de Ceniza Comments Off on Poema para Miércoles de Ceniza / Ash Wednesday Poem
Poema para Miércoles de Ceniza / Ash Wednesday Poem
Once, in winter, Una vez, durante el invierno,
I stood, Yo estaba de pie,
White flakes brushing my face. Copos blancos rozando la cara.
With white fingers, Con dedos pálidos,
I waited with the others. Esperé con los otros.
We shivered on the steps, Temblamos en los escalones,
Stuck out our tongues Sacamos la lengua
To catch snowflakes Para agarrar los copos de nieve
So cold they would burn. Tan frío que nos quemaban.
Soon the big doors opened Pronto abrieron las puertas grandes
On smoke and candles Al humo y a los cirios
And a cold thumb brushed Y un pulgar frío me rozó
My forehead with a cross of ashes. La frente con una cruz de cenizas.
“Dust to Dust” he muttered “El Polvo al Polvo,” masculló
While snowflakes Mientras los copos de nieve
Melted in my hair Se derritieron en mi cabello.
*
( Autor anónimo /Anonymous )
Traducción en español: Alexander Best
Mardi Gras: “I’m walkin’ to New Orleans…”
Posted: February 21, 2012 Filed under: English Comments Off on Mardi Gras: “I’m walkin’ to New Orleans…”
“Walkin’ to New Orleans”
by Bobby Charles Guidry, written for
“Fats” Domino, Jr., early-rock’n’roll pianist and singer
(born 1928, New Orleans, Louisiana, USA)
_
It’s time I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
I’m going to need two pair of shoes
When I get through walkin’ to you
When I get back to New Orleans
*
I’ve got my suitcase in my hand
Now, ain’t that a shame
I’m leavin’ here today
Yes, I’m goin’ back home to stay
Yes, I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
*
You used to be my honey
Till you spent all my money
No use for you to cry
I’ll see you bye and bye
Cause I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
*
I’ve got no time for talkin’
I’ve got to keep on walkin’
New Orleans is my home
That’s the reason why I’m goin’
Yes, I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
I’m walkin’ to New Orleans
I’m walkin’ to New Orleans…
Andre Bagoo: Carnival Monday in Trinidad
Posted: February 20, 2012 Filed under: Andre Bagoo, English Comments Off on Andre Bagoo: Carnival Monday in Trinidad
Andre Bagoo
“Carnival”
You are not my mother so you hold
my hand tighter than you should.
The wind blows my Indian feather,
And throws red dust into my face.
This is supposed to be fun, but when
We reach the Savannah stage I am terrified.
Your son, my half brother, is cold
He does not chip to the dollar wine.
This Kiddies’ Carnival experiment
Has gone awry. I’ve lost my axe.
You say you have to leave me here
It is five o’clock and Panorama is tonight.
You are going and my father is going
But my mother is staying home and
I am staying home to wash all this
Glitter and Vaseline off my small body.
But somewhere near that Savannah stage
The crowds crush my black cardboard axe.
_____
Andre Bagoo is a journalist and poet
from Trinidad, West.Indies.
He was born in 1983.
The poem above gives us Trinidad Carnival
through a child’s eyes, and will be found in
Bagoo’s collection of poems, “Trick Vessels”,
to be published by Shearsman in March 2012.
_____
Glossary:
Savannah: Queen’s Park Savannah, huge park in Port-of-Spain;
central festivities site for Carnival – Parade of Bands,
Crowning of Calypso Monarchs, etc.
chip – to step or shuffle in time to the music
dollar wine – a reference to the 1991 calypso hit by Colin Lucas,
“Dollar Wine”
Panorama: Carnival competition for Best
Pan Orchestra (i.e. Steel Band)
_____
Ataulfo Alves: “In a masquerade of Joy I hid my Sadness…”
Posted: February 20, 2012 Filed under: Ataulfo Alves, English, Portuguese, Translator's Whimsy: Song Lyrics / Extravagancia del traductor: Letras de canciones traducidas por Alexander Best, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Black poets, Poetas negros Comments Off on Ataulfo Alves: “In a masquerade of Joy I hid my Sadness…”
Ataulfo Alves (Sambista brasileiro, 1906-1969)
“Ilusão de carnaval”
.
Mascarado de alegria
Escondi minha tristeza
Terminada a folia
Sou mais triste com certeza
Ilusão de carnaval
Enganei somente a mim
Sem pensar que afinal
Carnaval também tem fim.
*
Ataulfo Alves
(Brazilian Samba composer, 1906-1969)
“Carnival Illusion”
.
In a masquerade of Joy
I hid my Sadness.
Revelry done,
More sad than ever
Am I…
.
You Illusion – oh Carnival !
I merely tricked myself
Without thinking that,
After all,
Carnival too comes to an end.
.
Translation from Portuguese:
Alexander Best
Nigel Darbasie: “Empires of Imagination”
Posted: February 20, 2012 Filed under: English, Nigel Darbasie Comments Off on Nigel Darbasie: “Empires of Imagination”_____
“Monday Jump-Up”
Is ol’ mas’ one carnival,
the best we could have fashioned
from our fathers’ discarded clothes.
In fat-pants and suspenders,
felt hats at our eyebrows,
we went to the railway station,
jammin’ steelband a cappella
as we headed for the city.
*
Almost everyone was on the hadj
to Queen’s Park Savannah in Port-of-Spain.
Royalty from unknown civilizations,
in silk and lamé, hobnobbed
with families of spectators
whose baskets filled our carriage
with aromas of peas and rice, and curry.
*
Outside the city terminus
a pack of half-naked devils descended.
Skins oily blue, and ochre.
Horned foreheads. Upturned tails
bobbing in wicked waist motion.
“Pay de devil! Pay de devil!” they chanted,
hustling purgatory dues from the crowd.
*
An ol’ mas’ band came along:
women in men’s clothes,
men in diapers, sucking carnival formula
from nippled Vat 19 and Old Oak rum bottles.
We revelled with them awhile
before jumpin’ behind giant butterflies
all the way to the Savannah.
*
There, at the confluence of worlds,
fantastic creatures swarmed overhead.
And down the streets,
from the empires of imagination,
flowed waves of mortal souls
dancing in the sunlight.
_____
Nigel Darbasie lives in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
He emigrated from Trinidad, West Indies, in 1969.
This poem, from his collection “A Map of the Island”,
brings us a nostalgic memory of Carnival in the 1960s
from the point-of-view of a lively, observant boy.
“Monday Jump-Up” is here used by permission of
The University of Alberta Press.
*
Editor’s note:
This year, 2012, today – February 20th – is the
“Monday” in the title of Darbasie’s poem:
a.k.a. J’Ouvert (Opening Day) of Trinidad Carnival.
_____
Djavan: “Face of the Indian” / “Cara de Índio”
Posted: February 19, 2012 Filed under: Djavan, English, Portuguese, Translator's Whimsy: Song Lyrics / Extravagancia del traductor: Letras de canciones traducidas por Alexander Best, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Djavan: “Face of the Indian” / “Cara de Índio”
Letra da canção de
cantor e compositor afrobrasileiro
Djavan (nasce 1949)
“Cara de Índio”(1978)
Índio cara pálida,
cara de índio.
Índio cara pálida,
cara de índio.
Sua ação é válida, meu caro índio.
Sua ação é válida, válida ao índio.
Nessa terra tudo dá,
terra de índio.
Nessa terra tudo dá,
não para o índio.
Quando alguém puder plantar,
quem sabe índio.
Quando alguém puder plantar,
não é índio.
Índio quer se nomear,
nome de índio.
Índio quer se nomear,
duvido índio.
Isso pode demorar,
te cuida índio.
Isso pode demorar,
coisa de índio.
*
Índio sua pipoca,
tá pouca índio.
Índio quer pipoca,
te toca índio.
Se o índio se tocar,
touca de índio.
Se o índio toca,
não chove índio.
Se quer abrir a boca,
pra sorrir índio.
Se quer abrir a boca,
na toca índio.
*
A minha também tá pouca,
cota de índio.
Apesar da minha roupa,
também sou índio.
_____
Djavan
(Brazilian songwriter, born 1949)
“The Indian Face” (1978)
Indio pale-face
Indian face.
Pale-face Indio
Your action is just, my dear Indio.
Your action is valid, right for the Indian.
In that land everything grows
– the Indian’s land.
In that land everything grows
– but not for the Indian.
When someone can plant,
who knows? The Indio.
When someone inspires,
Isn’t it the Indio?
An Indian wants to call himself
an Indian name.
Indio wants to call himself himself
– I doubt it, Indio
– that might take time – take care,
That might take time,
The Indian thing.
*
Indio gets just
A little “popcorn”.
He wants “popcorn” too
– it’s your turn, Indio.
If the Indian touches his head
it doesn’t rain.
If he wants to open his mouth
– Smile, Indio.
If he wants to open his mouth,
Don’t touch him.
*
I also have little,
An Indian’s share.
Despite my clothes,
I’m an Indio, too.
_____
Jorge Ben Jor: Day of the Indian / Dia de Índio
Posted: February 19, 2012 Filed under: English, Jorge Ben Jor, Portuguese, Translator's Whimsy: Song Lyrics / Extravagancia del traductor: Letras de canciones traducidas por Alexander Best | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Jorge Ben Jor: Day of the Indian / Dia de Índio_____
Jorge Ben Jor (nasce 1942)
“Curumin chama cunhãtã que eu vou contar
(Todo dia era Dia de Índio)” (1981)
Hey Hey Hey!
Hey Hey Hey!
Jês, Kariris, Karajás, Tukanos, Caraíbas,
Makus, Nambikwaras, Tupis, Bororós,
Guaranis, Kaiowa, Ñandeva, YemiKruia
Yanomá, Waurá, Kamayurá, Iawalapiti,
Txikão, Txu-Karramãe, Xokren, Xikrin,
Krahô, Ramkokamenkrá, Suyá !
*
Curumim chama cunhatã que eu vou contar
Cunhatã chama curumim que eu vou contar
Curumim, cunhatã
Cunhatã, curumim
*
Antes que os homens aqui pisassem
Nas ricas e férteis terraes brazilis
Que eram povoadas e amadas por milhões de índios
Reais donos felizes
Da terra do pau-brasil
Pois todo dia, toda hora, era dia de índio
Pois todo dia, toda hora, era dia de índio
*
Mas agora eles só têm um dia
O dia dezenove de abril…
Amantes da pureza e da natureza
Eles são de verdade incapazes
De maltratarem as fêmeas
Ou de poluir o rio, o céu e o mar
Protegendo o equilíbrio ecológico
Da terra, fauna e flora.
Pois na sua história, o índio
É o exemplo mais puro
Mais perfeito, mais belo
Junto da harmonia da fraternidade.
É da alegria,
Da alegria de viver
Da alegria de amar.
Mas no entanto agora
O seu canto de guerra
É um choro de uma raça inocente…
Que já foi muito contente
Pois antigamente
Todo dia, toda hora, era dia de índio.
*
Jês, Kariris, Karajás, Tukanos, Caraíbas,
Makus, Nambikwaras, Tupis, Bororós,
Guaranis, Kaiowa, Ñandeva, YemiKruia
Yanomá, Waurá, Kamayurá, Iawalapiti, Suyá,
Txikão, Txu-Karramãe, Xokren, Xikrin, Krahô,
Ramkokamenkrá, Suyá !
*
Todo dia, toda hora, era dia de índio…..
Curumim, cunhatã / Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey! / Cunhatã, curumim…..
_____
Jorge Ben Jor
“Every day, every hour, was the Day of the Indian”
Hey Hey Hey!
Hey Hey Hey!
Jês, Kariris, Karajás, Tukanos, Caraíbas,
Makus, Nambikwaras, Tupis, Bororós,
Guaranis, Kaiowa, Ñandeva, YemiKruia
Yanomá, Waurá, Kamayurá, Iawalapiti,
Suyá, Txikão, Txu-Karramãe, Xokren, Xikrin,
Krahô, Ramkokamenkrá, Suyá !
*
Call: “Curumim cunhatã” – I’m going to tell it.
Cry: “Cunhatã curumim” is how I’m going to tell it.
Curumim, cunhatã
Cunhatã, curumim
*
Before people trod here
Upon this rich and fertile land of Brazil
It was populated and loved by millions of Indians,
Happy moneyless owners
Of this land of “Brazil-wood”.
Back then, every day, every hour, was the Day of the Indian.
But now they have only one day,
The 19th of April…
*
Lovers of purity, of nature,
They knew truth, incapable of
Mistreating Woman
Or of polluting river, sky and sea,
Protecting the ecological equilibrium
Of earth, flora and fauna.
And so, in history, the Indio
Is an exemplar most pure,
Perfect and beautiful.
Together in the harmony of humanity
He gives joy – joy of life, joy of love.
Now, though, theirs is a war song – and it’s
The cry of an innocent race…
In olden times they were most happy because
Every day, every hour, was the Day of the Indian.
*
Jês, Kariris, Karajás, Tukanos, Caraíbas,
Makus, Nambikwaras, Tupis, Bororós,
Guaranis, Kaiowa, Ñandeva, YemiKruia
Yanomá, Waurá, Kamayurá, Iawalapiti,
Txikão, Txu-Karramãe, Xokren, Xikrin,
Krahô, Ramkokamenkrá, Suyá !
*
Every day, every hour, was the Day of the Indian.
Curumim, cunhatã / Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey! / Cunhatã, curumim…..
_____
Glossary:
Jês, Kariris, Karajás, Tukanos, Caraíbas, etc.,
– Ben gives us a list of names of the
Indian/Indigenous/Native Peoples of Brazil
The 19th of April – throughout Latin and South America,
this day – Dia Americano del Indio – draws attention to the
cultures, struggles and progress of Indigenous Peoples;
initiated in 1940 at Pátzcuaro, México, during the first
“Congreso Indigenista Interamericano”
/ InterAmerican Indigenous Congress
Zócalo Poets 