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Augusto Monterroso

-La palabra mágica-

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Voltaire

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James Nolan

"La traducción destroza el espí­ritu del idioma"

Federico García Lorca
Pablo Neruda -La United Fruit Co.-
lunes, 23 de mayo de 2005
La United Fruit Co.

Cuando sonó la trompeta, estuvo
todo preparado en la tierra,
y Jehova repartió el mundo
a Coca-Cola Inc., Anaconda,
Ford Motors, y otras entidades:
la Compañía Frutera Inc.
se reservó lo más jugoso,
la costa central de mi tierra,
la dulce cintura de América.

Bautizó de nuevo sus tierras
como “Repúblicas Bananas,”
y sobre los muertos dormidos,
sobre los héroes inquietos
que conquistaron la grandeza,
la libertad y las banderas,
estableció la ópera bufa:

enajenó los albedríos
regaló coronas de César,
desenvainó la envidia, atrajo
la dictadura de las moscas,
moscas Trujillos, moscas Tachos,
moscas Carías, moscas Martínez,
moscas Ubico, moscas húmedas
de sangre humilde y mermelada,
moscas borrachas que zumban
sobre las tumbas populares,
moscas de circo, sabias moscas
entendidas en tiranía.

Entre las moscas sanguinarias
la Frutera desembarca,
arrasando el café y las frutas,
en sus barcos que deslizaron
como bandejas el tesoro
de nuestras tierras sumergidas.

Mientras tanto, por los abismos
azucarados de los puertos,
caían indios sepultados
en el vapor de la mañana:
un cuerpo rueda, una cosa
sin nombre, un número caído,
un racimo de fruta muerta
derramada en el pudridero.


The United Fruit Co.

When the trumpet blared everything
on earth was prepared
and Jehovah distributed to the world
to Coca-Cola Inc., Anaconda,
Ford Motors and other entities:
The United Fruit Inc.
reserved for itself the juiciest,
the central seaboard of my land,
America's sweet waist.

It rebaptized its lands
the "Banana Republics"
and upon de slumbering corpes,
upon de restless heroes
who conquered renown,
fredom and flags,
it established the comic opera:

it alienated self-destiny
regaled Caesar's crowns,
unsheathed envy, drew
the dictatorship of the flies:
Trujillos flies, Tacho flies,
Carias flies, Martinez flies,
Ubico flies, flies soaked
in humble blood and jam,
drunk flies that drone
the common graves
circus flies, clever flies
versed in tyrrany.

Among the bloodthirsty flies
The Fruit Co. disembarks,
ravaging coffe and fruits
for its ships that spirit away
like serving trays
our submerged land's treasures

Meanwhile, in the seaports
sugary abysses,
Indians collapsed, buried
in the morning mist:
a body rolls down, a nameless
thing, a fallen number
a bunch of lifeless fruit
dumped in the rubbish heap.

Translated by Jack Schmitt

Etiquetas:

posted by Bishop @ 13:30  
4 Comments:
  • At 25 de mayo de 2007, 12:17, Blogger Bishop said…

    The United Fruit Co.

    When the trumpet sounded, it was
    all prepared on the earth,
    and Jehovah parceled out the earth
    to Coca-Cola, Inc., Anaconda,
    Ford Motors, and other entities:
    The Fruit Company, Inc.
    reserved for itself the most succulent,
    the central coast of my own land,
    the delicate waist of America.

    It rechristened its territories
    as the "Banana Republics"
    and over the sleeping dead,
    over the restless heroes
    who brought about the greatness,
    the liberty and the flags,
    it established the comic opera:
    abolished the independencies,
    presented crowns of Caesar,
    unsheathed envy, attracted
    the dictatorship of the flies,

    Trujillo flies, Tacho flies,
    Carias flies, Martinez flies,
    Ubico flies, damp flies
    of modest blood and marmalade,
    drunken flies who zoom
    over the ordinary graves,
    circus flies, wise flies
    well trained in tyranny.

    Among the bloodthirsty flies
    the Fruit Company lands its ships,
    taking off the coffee and the fruit;
    the treasure of our submerged
    territories flows as though
    on plates into the ships.

    Meanwhile Indians are falling
    into the sugared chasms
    of the harbors, wrapped
    for burial in the mist of the dawn:
    a body rolls, a thing
    that has no name, a fallen cipher,
    a cluster of dead fruit
    thrown down on the dump.

    Translated by Robert Bly

     
  • At 25 de mayo de 2007, 12:22, Blogger Bishop said…

    The United Fruit Co.

    When the trumpet sounded,
    everything was prepared on earth,
    and Jehovah gave the world
    to Coca-Cola Inc., Anaconda,
    Ford Motors, and other corporations.
    The United Fruit Company
    reserved for itself the most juicy
    piece, the central coast of my world,
    the delicate waste of America

    It rebaptized these countries
    Banana Republics,
    and over the sleeping dead,
    over the unquiet heroes
    who won greatness,
    liberty, and banners,
    it established an opera buffa:
    it abolished free will,
    gave out imperial crowns,
    encouraged envy, attracted
    the dictatorship of flies.

    Trujillo flies, Tachos flies
    Carias flies, Martinez flies,
    Ubico flies, flies sticky with
    submissive blood and marmalade,
    drunken flies that buzz over
    the tombs of the people
    circus flies, wise flies
    expert at tyranny

    With the bloodthirsty flies
    came the Fruit Company,
    amassed coffee and fruit
    in ships which put to sea like
    overloaded trays with the treasures
    from our sunken lands.

    Meanwhile the Indians fall
    into the angry depths of the
    harbors and are buried in the
    morning mists,
    a corpse rolls, a thing without
    name, a discarded number,
    a bunch of rotten fruit
    thrown on the garbage heap.

     
  • At 25 de mayo de 2007, 12:26, Blogger Bishop said…

    The United Fruit Co.

    When the trumpet sounded, everything
    on earth was prepared
    and Jehovah distributed the world
    to Coca Cola Inc., Anaconda,
    Ford Motors and other entities:
    The Fruit Company Inc.
    reserved the juiciest for itself,
    the central coast of my land,
    the sweet waist of America.

    It re-baptized the lands
    "Banana Republics"
    and on the sleeping dead,
    on the restless heroes
    who'd conquered greatness,
    liberty and flags,
    it founded a comic opera:
    it alienated free wills,
    gave crowns of Caesar as gifts,
    unsheathed jealousy, attracted
    the dictatorship of the flies,

    Trujillo flies, Tachos flies,
    Carias flies, Martinez flies,
    Ubico flies, flies soppy
    with humble blood and marmelade,
    drunken flies that buzz
    around common graves,
    circus flies, learned flies
    adept at tyranny.
    The Company disembarks

    among the blood-thirsty flies,
    brim-filling their boats that slide
    with the coffee and fruit treasure
    of our submerged lands like trays.

    Meanwhile, along the sugared up
    abysms of the ports,
    indians fall over, buried
    in the morning mist:
    a body rolls, a thing
    without a name, a fallen number,
    a bunch of dead fruit
    spills into the pile of rot.

    Translated by Jack Hirschman

     
  • At 25 de mayo de 2007, 12:30, Blogger Bishop said…

    The United Fruit Co.

    Then the trumpets bray, and all
    of earth braces itself
    and Jehovah deals out the land
    to Coca Cola Inc., Anaconda,
    to Ford Motors and other corporations:
    and The Fruit Company, Inc.
    takes the ripest for itself,
    my land's central coast,
    my sweet hips of America.

    Then it baptizes it again as
    a "Banana Republic" country
    and upon our slumbering dead,
    upon our straggling martyrs
    who have usurped heroism,
    liberty and flags,
    it colonizes us into a comic opera:
    it outlaws free wills,
    gives Caesar's crowns as bounty,
    unleashes jealousy, plants
    the dictatorship of the maggot,
    maggot of Trujillo, maggot of Tachos,

    maggot of Carias, maggot
    of Martinez, maggot of Ubico,
    and these maggots are soggy
    with humble blood and marmalade,
    these drunken maggots crawl
    around our common graves,
    these circus maggots, these academic
    maggots, adept as any tyrant.
    The Company disembarks

    among the blood-thirsty maggots,
    our coffee and treasured fruits fill
    the brims of their sliding boats
    from our submerged fields like tea trays.

    Meanwhile, along the sugared
    gulfs of our harbors,
    indians fall over, buried
    under the morning mists:
    a little carrion rolls about, a thing
    without a name, a shrunken number,
    a clot of dead fruit, spilling
    onto the pile of all this rot.

    Translated by ZJC

     
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