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Poemas en Inglés es un blog que pretende acercar poemas de lengua inglesa al castellano |
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"Por principio, toda traducción es buena. En cualquier caso, pasa con ellas lo que con las mujeres: de alguna manera son necesarias, aunque no todas son perfectas" Augusto Monterroso -La palabra mágica-
"Es imposible traducir la poesía. ¿Acaso se puede traducir la música?" Voltaire
"Translating poetry is like making jewelry. Every word counts, and each sparkles with so many facets. Translating prose is like sculpting: get the shape and the lines right, then polish the seams later." James Nolan
"La traducción destroza el espíritu del idioma" Federico García Lorca |
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Federico García Lorca -Gacela del amor imprevisto- |
sábado, 10 de septiembre de 2005 |
Gacela del amor imprevisto
Nadie comprendía el perfume de la oscura magnolia de tu vientre. Nadie sabía que martirizabas un colibrí de amor entre los dientes.
Mil caballitos persas se dormían en la plaza con luna de tu frente, mientras que yo enlazaba cuatro noches tu cintura, enemiga de la nieve.
Entre yeso y jazmines, tu mirada era un pálido ramo de simientes. Yo busqué, para darte, por mi pecho las letras de marfil que dicen siempre,
siempre, siempre: jardín de mi agonía, tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre, la sangre de tus venas en mi boca, tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte.
Gacela of unforseen love No one understood the perfume of the dark magnolia of your womb. Nobody knew that you tormented a hummingbird of love between your teeth.
A thousand Persian little horses fell asleep in the plaza with moon of your forehead, while through four nights I embraced your waist, enemy of the snow.
Between plaster and jasmins, your glance was a pale branch of seeds. I sought in my heart to give you the ivory letters that say "siempre",
"siempre", "siempre" : garden of my agony, your body elusive always, that blood of your veins in my mouth, your mouth already lightless for my death.Etiquetas: Federico García Lorca |
posted by Bishop @ 10:00 |
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3 Comments: |
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Gacela of unexpected love No one understood the perfume of the shadow magnolia of your belly. No one knew you crushed completely a human bird of love between your teeth. There slept a thousand little persian horses in the moonlight plaza of your forehead, while, for four nights, I embraced there your waist, the enemy of snowfall. Between the plaster and the jasmines, your gaze was a pale branch, seeding. I tried to give you, in my breastbone, the ivory letters that say ever. Ever, ever: garden of my torture, your body, flies from me forever, the blood of your veins is in my mouth now, already light-free for my death. Translated by A. S. Kline
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I much rather like the first translation, it is more faithful to the original. Also, I want to follow your blog but I don't know how?!
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You may like this: This is a video of la Gacela sung by Enrique Morente.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AO7mTTmvCTY&feature=endscreen&NR=1
Go to min 44:13 :)))
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Gacela of unexpected love
No one understood the perfume
of the shadow magnolia of your belly.
No one knew you crushed completely
a human bird of love between your teeth.
There slept a thousand little persian horses
in the moonlight plaza of your forehead,
while, for four nights, I embraced there
your waist, the enemy of snowfall.
Between the plaster and the jasmines,
your gaze was a pale branch, seeding.
I tried to give you, in my breastbone,
the ivory letters that say ever.
Ever, ever: garden of my torture,
your body, flies from me forever,
the blood of your veins is in my mouth now,
already light-free for my death.
Translated by A. S. Kline