Murielle Jassinthe: Of Country Bodies
Posted: March 6, 2012 Filed under: English, Murielle Jassinthe, ZP Translator: Alexander Best Comments Off on Murielle Jassinthe: Of Country Bodies
Jassinthe writes of this poem:
“I’m speaking here of two homeless drug-addicts. Having no shelter other than the banks of an urban river, there they sleep where solitude isolates them, pushes them toward a more physical closeness. Drug-taking and love-making help them forget the cold, the loneliness – and their Being.”
_____
Murielle Jassinthe was born in Québec in 1982 – of Haitian parentage.
Currently she’s pursuing a Masters in African and Francophone Literatures at Laval University where she works also as a research assistant. Two years ago, Éditions Bruno Doucey published “Land of Women” – an anthology of Haitian women poets spanning a century-and-a-half. Jassinthe’s poetry was included – one of the youngest voices. Last year, at Laval University’s Lantiss, she worked both as actress and production assistant on a play by Haitian playwright Guy Régis, Jr., entitled “La mort de soi dans sa longue robe de Mariée”. Also in 2011 Murielle received a writer’s grant from Première Ovation, and was mentored by poet Alix Renaud for the creation of her collection of poems with photographs, “Trouble Optik” – from which comes the poem we feature here.
_____
Poem translation from French into English:
Alexander Best – with Murielle Jassinthe
Murielle Jassinthe: The maternal angle / L’angle maternel
Posted: March 6, 2012 Filed under: English, French, Murielle Jassinthe, ZP Translator: Alexander Best Comments Off on Murielle Jassinthe: The maternal angle / L’angle maternel_____
Murielle Jassinthe
L’angle maternel * The maternal angle
_
La langue de ma mère * The language of my mother
se tord en ma bouche * gets twisted in my mouth
attise la brûlure * fans the burn
à l’oeil nu * clear and direct
métallique conte nocturne * metallic nocturne tale
ses chants de volaille * these birdsongs
ne se mangent * can only be eaten
que par la bouche colonial * by the colonial mouth
_
digérés par ce vent de sel * digested by this saltwind
mes viscères rubiconds haïssent * that my bloody guts hate
les odeurs transfigurent * the smell transforms
ma veste ma peau d’être * my coat my skin myself
fort ce hâle qui me fait cuir * strong this browning that
davantage que le soleil * burns even more than sun
la main le regard * hand and eyes
m’ont fait cuire * have baked me.
_
je me sens * I feel
j’exhale * I exhale
danse pour la terre seule * dance for the earth
creuset de fièvre
* alone feverish
verve lente douce * slow sweet verve
érosion qui s’inscrit * erosion that etches
en mes muscles * into my muscles
ma tête arabesque * my headband’s
est porte-étendard * a standard-bearer
_
la langue de ma mère * my mother tongue
se tord en ma bouche. * writhes in my mouth.
_____
The poet states:
“I’m writing here about feelings of cultural dislocation. The Haitian Creole language – that is, the mother tongue – that I have not mastered speaking. This native language of my mother and father which is not mine. All the same, there exist the words, my love of language to describe and to shout out my identity, suffering, joy, injustice, love, desire, fear, etc: The World in all its wonderful ugliness and tortuous beauty. And I am proud, as well, of my people – Haitians – I am one of their blazing torches.”
_____
Résumé par le poète:
“J’écris à propos d’un sentiment de dépossession culturelle. De cette langue créole, le
langue maternelle, que je ne maîtrise pas. La langue maternelle de ma mère et de mon père
qui n’est pas la mienne. Toutefois, il me reste les mots, mon amour de la langue pour
décrier et crier mon identité, la souffrance, la joie, l’injustice, l’amour, le désir, la peur, etc:
Le monde dans toute son admirable laideur et sa tortueuse beauté. Aussi, je suis fière de
mon people, les Haïtiens, et j’en suis l’un des flambeaux.”
_____
Poem translation from French into English /
Traduction du poème, français-anglais:
Alexander Best – with/avec Murielle Jassinthe
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
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
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: “Em fevereiro tem carnaval…” / “In February there’s Carnaval…”
Posted: February 18, 2012 Filed under: English, Jorge Ben Jor, Portuguese, ZP Translator: Alexander Best Comments Off on Jorge Ben Jor: “Em fevereiro tem carnaval…” / “In February there’s Carnaval…”
Jorge Ben Jor (born 1942)
“Tropical Country” (1969)
I live
In a tropical country
Blessed by God
And beautiful by nature
( and oh what beauty )
In February (February)
There’s Carnival (there’s Carnival)
I’ve got a VW “Bug” and a guitar
I’m from Flamengo*, and I’ve got a black girl
called Teresa!
( Samba, baby,
Samba, baby! )
*
I’m a young boy of average
intelligence (oh yeah)
But even so I’m happy
Because I don’t owe anything to anyone
(oh yeah)
Because I’m happy, yeah happy
with me!
*
I may not be a band-leader
(oh yeah)
But at home
all my friends
my buddies
respect me (oh yeah)
That’s what it means – being nice,
That’s the power of something extra
– and the joy-oy-oy-oy!
*
I live
In a tropical country
Blessed by God
And beautiful by nature
(and oh what beauty)
In February (in February)
There’s Carnival (There’s Carnival)
I’ve got a VW “Bug” and a guitar
I’m from Flamengo, and I’ve got a black girl
called Teresa!
( Samba, baby!
Samba, baby! )
*
Got a “Bug”,
a GUIT-ar,
Me, I’m Flamengan,
with a black gal called
Treeze… – from my Brazil!
* Flamengo – a neighbourhood in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
_____
Jorge Ben Jor (nasce 1942)
“Pais Tropical” (1969)
Moro num país tropical,
abençoado por Deus
E bonito por natureza
(mas que beleza)
Em fevereiro (em fevereiro)
Tem carnaval (tem carnaval)
Tenho um fusca e um violão
Sou Flamengo
Tenho uma nêga
Chamada Tereza!
( “Sambaby!”
“Sambaby!” )
*
Sou um menino de mentalidade mediana
Pois é, mas assim mesmo sou feliz da vida
Pois eu não devo nada a ninguém
Pois é, pois eu sou feliz
Muito feliz comigo mesmo
*
Moro num país tropical,
abençoado por Deus
E bonito por natureza
(mas que beleza)
Em fevereiro (em fevereiro)
Tem carnaval (tem carnaval)
Tenho um fusca e um violão
Sou Flamengo
Tenho uma nêga
Chamada Tereza!
( “Sambaby!”
“Sambaby!” )
*
Eu posso não ser um “band-leader”
Pois é, mas assim mesmo lá em casa
Todos meus amigos,
meus camaradinhas me respeitam.
Pois é, essa é a razão da simpatia
Do poder, do algo mais e da alegria-a-a-a!
Tê um fu, um violão,
Sou Flamê
Tê uma nê
Chamá Terê… – do meu Brasil!
_____
Editor’s note:
Today is the opening day of Carnival 2012 in Rio de Janeiro,
and this song from the 1960s with its zest for life captures the
feeling of being young and alive, Brazilian and Black!
Nicomedes Santa Cruz: “Black Rhythms of Peru” / “Ritmos negros del Perú” – “Latin America” / “América Latina”
Posted: February 12, 2012 Filed under: English, Nicomedes Santa Cruz, Spanish, ZP Translator: Alexander Best, ZP Translator: Lidia García Garay | Tags: Black poets Comments Off on Nicomedes Santa Cruz: “Black Rhythms of Peru” / “Ritmos negros del Perú” – “Latin America” / “América Latina”
Nicomedes Santa Cruz
( Poeta y músico afro-peruano, 1925-1992)
“Ritmos negros del Perú” (1957)
Ritmos de la esclavitud
contra amarguras y penas.
Al compás de las cadenas
Ritmos negros del Perú.
*
De África llegó mi abuela
vestida con caracoles,
la trajeron lo´epañoles
en un barco carabela.
La marcaron con candela,
la carimba fue su cruz.
Y en América del Sur
al golpe de sus dolores
dieron los negros tambores
ritmos de la esclavitud
*
Por una moneda sola
la revendieron en Lima
y en la Hacienda “La Molina”
sirvió a la gente española.
Con otros negros de Angola
ganaron por sus faenas
zancudos para sus venas
para dormir duro suelo
y naíta´e consuelo
contra amarguras y penas…
*
En la plantación de caña
nació el triste socabón,
en el trapiche de ron
el negro cantó la zaña.
El machete y la guadaña
curtió sus manos morenas;
y los indios con sus quenas
y el negro con tamborete
cantaron su triste suerte
al compás de las cadenas.
*
Murieron los negros viejos
pero entre la caña seca
se escucha su zamacueca
y el panalivio muy lejos.
Y se escuchan los festejos
que cantó en su juventud.
De Cañete a Tombuctú,
de Chancay a Mozambique
llevan sus claros repiques
ritmos negros del Perú.
_____
Nicomedes Santa Cruz
(Black Peruvian poet and singer, 1925-1992)
Black Rhythms of Peru (1957)
Rhythms of slavery
Against bitterness and sorrows.
Keeping time to the beat of the chains
– Black rhythms of Peru.
*
From Africa arrived my grandmother
Adorned with conch-shells,
They brought her, those Spaniards,
In a three-masted ship.
Marked by wax and fire – the
“carimba” scar was the cross she bore.
And in South America
To each strike, in her suffering,
The Black drums gave
Rhythms to that slavery.
*
For one coin
They sold my grandmother again
In Lima
And at Hacienda La Molina
She served the Spanish people.
With other Blacks from Angola
She earned for her tasks
Mosquito bites on her veins
Sleeping upon hard ground,
And nuthin’ ain’t no consolation
Against bitterness and sorrows…
*
On the sugarcane plantation
Was born that sad “socabón” dance
In the rum-press at the mill,
The Black man sang of Zaña.
The “machete” and the scythe
Cut his dark hands;
And the Indians with their reed-flutes,
The Black man and his tambourine,
Sang of their sad luck
Keeping time to the beat of the chains.
*
They died, those old Black folks…
But within the dried fibres of the cut cane
One hears the Zamacueca dance
And the distant Panalivio.
One hears the festivities they
Sang of in their youth.
From Cañete to Timbuktu,
From Chancay to Mozambique
They carried the clear pitter-patter,
The tap-tap-tap of those
Black rhythms of Peru.
_____
Glossary:
Zaña: 16th-century Spanish-Colonial town in Peru – inhabited by
wealthy, pious Spanish families involved in sugar and cotton
plantations based upon African slavery and Native-Indian servitude.
Raided by English pirates in 1686 – many people were killed,
prosperous families abandoned the town, and slaves
became unexpectedly “free”… La Zaña is an Afro-Peruvian dance
originating in the town.
Zamacueca, Panalivio: Afro-Peruvian dances of the 18th
and 19th centuries – the Zamacueca was a courtship dance and
the Panalivio’s lyrics often told of the trials of slavery.
*
Cañete, Chancay: Peruvian Spanish-Colonial towns – prominent in
the 17th through the 19th centuries – surrounded by haciendas
and sugar/cotton plantations. Large African-born and native-
born Black slave populations.
* * *
Nicomedes Santa Cruz:
“América Latina”(1963) / “Latin America”(1963)
Mi cuate My pal
Mi socio My mate
Mi hermano My brother
Aparcero Sharecropper
Camarado Colleague
Compañero Comrade
Mi pata My buddy
M´hijito My boy
Paisano… Compatriot…
He aquí mis vecinos. Here I have my neighbours
He aquí mis hermanos. Here I have my brothers
*
Las mismas caras latinoamericanas The same Latin-American faces
de cualquier punto de América Latina: from every corner of Latin America:
Indoblanquinegros Indianwhiteblacks
Blanquinegrindios Whiteblackindians
y Negrindoblancos and Blackindianwhites
*
Rubias bembonas Blondes with thick lips
Indios barbudos Bearded Indians
y negros lacios and straight-haired Blacks
*
Todos se quejan: All of them complain
-¡Ah, si en mi país – Oh, if only in my country
no hubiese tanta política…! there wasn’t so much “politics”…!
-¡Ah, si en mi país – Oh, if only in my country
no hubiera gente paleolítica…! there weren’t such paleolithic people…!
-¡Ah, si en mi país – Oh, if only in my country
no hubiese militarismo, there was no militarism,
ni oligarquía or oligarchy
ni chauvinismo or chauvinism
ni burocracia or bureaucracy
ni hipocresía or hypocrisy
ni clerecía or clergy
ni antropofagia… or anthropophagy…
-¡Ah, si en mi país…! – Oh, if only – in my country…!
*
Alguien pregunta de dónde soy Someone asks where I’m from
(Yo no respondo lo siguiente): (I do not answer with the following):
Nací cerca de Cuzco I was born close to Cuzco
admiro a Puebla Puebla I admire
me inspira el ron de las Antillas I’m inspired by rum from The Antilles
canto con voz argentina I sing in an Argentinian voice
creo en Santa Rosa de Lima I believe in Saint Rose of Lima
y en los Orishas de Bahía. and in the Orishas of Bahia.
Yo no coloreé mi Continente I didn’t paint my Continent
ni pinté verde a Brasil the green of Brazil
amarillo Perú the yellow of Peru
roja Bolivia Bolivia’s red
*
Yo no tracé líneas territoriales I drew no border-lines
separando al hermano del hermano. separating brother from brother
*
Poso la frente sobre Río Grande I rest by the Rio Grande
me afirmo pétreo sobre el Cabo de Hornos I stand firm at Cape Horn
hundo mi brazo izquierdo en el Pacífico my left hand I dip down into the Pacific
y sumerjo mi diestra en el Atlántico. and into the Atlantic I submerge my right.
*
Por las costas de oriente y occidente By the coasts East and West
y doscientas millas entro and two-thousand miles inland
a cada Océano from each Ocean
sumerjo mano y mano I immerse both hands
y así me aferro a nuestro Continente and in this way I hold our Continent
en un abrazo Latinoamericano. in a Latin-American embrace.
*
Translation from the original Spanish into English:
“Black Rhythms of Peru”: Alexander Best
“Latin America”: Lidia García Garay
Nicolás Guillén: “The Bongo’s Song” / “La canción del bongó”
Posted: February 12, 2012 Filed under: English, Nicolás Guillén, Spanish, ZP Translator: Alexander Best | Tags: Black History Month poems Comments Off on Nicolás Guillén: “The Bongo’s Song” / “La canción del bongó”
ZP_The Rooster Dances to My Bongo Beat_El Gallo Baila Con Mi Bongo_painting by_pintura de_George Rodez
Nicolás Guillén
( Poeta afro-cubano, 1902-1989 )
“La canción del bongó” (1930)
.
Esta es la canción del bongó:
—Aquí el que más fino sea,
responde, si llamo yo.
Unos dicen: Ahora mismo,
otros dicen: Allá voy.
Pero mi repique bronco,
pero mi profunda voz,
convoca al negro y al blanco,
que bailan el mismo son,
cueripardos y almiprietos
más de sangre que de sol,
pues quien por fuera no es de noche,
por dentro ya oscureció.
Aquí el que más fino sea,
responde, si llamo yo.
En esta tierra, mulata
de africano y español
(Santa Bárbara de un lado,
del otro lado, Changó),
siempre falta algún abuelo,
cuando no sobra algún Don
y hay títulos de Castilla
con parientes en Bondó:
Vale más callarse, amigos,
y no menear la cuestión,
porque venimos de lejos,
y andamos de dos en dos.
Aquí el que más fino sea,
responde si llamo yo.
Habrá quién llegue a insultarme,
pero no de corazón;
habrá quién me escupa en público,
cuando a solas me besó…
A ése, le digo:
—Compadre,
ya me pedirás perdón,
ya comerás de mi ajiaco,
ya me darás la razón,
ya me golpearás el cuero,
ya bailarás a mi voz,
ya pasearemos del brazo,
ya estarás donde yo estoy:
ya vendrás de abajo arriba,
¡que aquí el más alto soy yo!
_____
Nicolás Guillén
(Cuban poet, 1902-1989)
“The Bongo’s Song” (1930)
(To Lino Dou)
.
This is the bongo’s song:
“Let the finest of you here
answer when I call you!
Some say: I’ll be right there,
others say: Just a minute.
But my harsh peal,
but my deep voice,
summons blacks and whites,
who dance to the same son,
men with brownish skins and blackish souls
caused more by blood than by the sun,
for who on the outside are not night,
have already darkened on the inside.
Let the finest of you here
answer when I call you.
.
“In this land made mulatto
by Africans and Spaniards
(Santa Bárbara on the one hand,
Changó on the other),
there is always a missing grandfather,
when there isn’t an excess of Dons.
Some have titles from Castile
and relatives in Bondó :
it is better to keep quiet, my friends,
and not stir up the matter
because we came from far away,
and we walk two by two.
Let the finest of you here
answer when I call you!
.
“There’ll be those who will insult me,
but not of their full accord;
there’ll be those who spit on me in public,
yet when we are alone they kiss me…
To them I say:
My friends,
you’ll soon be begging my pardon,
you’ll soon be eating my ajiaco,
you’ll soon be saying I’m right,
you’ll soon be beating my leather,
you’ll soon be dancing to my voice,
we’ll soon walk arm in arm,
you’ll soon be where I am:
you’ll soon be moving up,
for the highest here is me!”
.
Translation from Spanish into English
© 2003, KEITH ELLIS
* * *
Glossary:
Son – Quintessential original Cuban musical style, nascent in
the late 19th-century, flowered fully in the 20th; a hybrid of
Bantu-African percussion – bongos, maracas – with Spanish guitars
and melodies, combined with African “call-and-response”
song structure; the precursor of modern-day “Salsa” music
Mulatto – “mixed-race” i.e. African and European ancestry
Santa Bárbara – Roman-Catholic saint, syncretized into
Santería, a Caribbean religion combining West-African and
Christian beliefs; practised in Cuba.
Changó – Yoruba-African God of fire, thunder and lightning
Don – prefix of Spanish nobility
Bondó – a “typical” African town/province name, found in
Congo, Ivory Coast, Kenya, Mali, Uganda
Ajiaco – a hearty Cuban soup consisting of chicken, pork,
plaintains, sweet potatoes, taro, black pepper and lime juice
_____
Zócalo Poets 