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Poemas en Inglés es un blog que pretende acercar poemas de lengua inglesa al castellano
Sentences
"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
Federico García Lorca -Gacela del mercado matutino-
sábado, 10 de septiembre de 2005
Gacela del mercado matutino

Por el arco de Elvira
quiero verte pasar,
para saber tu nombre
y ponerme a llorar.


¿Qué luna gris de las nueve
te desangró la mejilla?
¿Quién recoge tu semilla
de llamarada en la nieve?
¿Qué alfiler de cactus breve
asesina tu cristal?

Por el arco de Elvira
voy a verte pasar,
para beber tus ojos
y ponerme a llorar.


¡Qué voz para mi castigo
levantas por el mercado!
¡Qué clavel enajenado
en los montones de trigo!
¡Qué lejos estoy contigo,
qué cerca cuando te vas!

Por el arco de Elvira
voy a verte pasar,
para sentir tus muslos
y ponerme a llorar.



Gacela of the morning market

Through the arch of Elvira
I want to watch you go by,
to ask you your name
and to break down and cry.


What grey nine o'clock moon
has bled your cheek?
Who is collecting your seed
that flashes in the snow?
What short cactus needle
is murdering your crystal?

Through the arch of Elvira
I'm going to watch you go by,
to drink in your eyes
and to break down and cry.


What a voice for my punishment
do you raise in the market!
What an outlandish carnation
in the piles of wheat!
How distant I am with you,
how close when you leave!

Through the arch of Elvira
I'm going to watch you go by,
to feel the touch of your thighs
and to break down and cry.


Translated by Simon Andrewes

Etiquetas:

posted by Bishop @ 9:30  
2 Comments:
  • At 5 de junio de 2007, 1:57, Blogger Bishop said…

    Gacela of the Morning Market

    Under the Elvira arch
    let me see you pass
    that I may learn your name
    and cry.

    What pale moon at nine
    bled your cheek white?
    Who gathers up the seed
    that sets its snow aflame?
    What tiny cactus spike
    shatters your glass?

    Under the Elvira arch
    let me see you pass
    that I may lap your eyes
    and cry.

    How it chastens me,
    the market-call you raise!
    What odd carnation, you,
    amid the piles of wheat!
    How far you are when close!
    How near to me when gone!

    Under the Elvira arch
    let me see you pass
    that I may suffer your thighs
    and cry.

    Translated by Michael Smith

     
  • At 5 de junio de 2007, 1:59, Blogger Bishop said…

    Song of the Morning Market

    Under the Elvira arch
    I want to see you go by
    to know your name
    and begin to cry.

    What gray moon at nine
    bled your cheek?
    Who gathers up your seeds
    that set the snow into flames?
    What tiny point of cactus
    murders your mirror?

    Under the Elvira arch
    I want to see you go by
    to drink your eyes
    and begin to cry.

    What voice rises from the market
    to punish me!
    What enchanted carnation
    set in bundles of wheat!
    How far I am from you!
    How close when you depart!

    Under the Elvira arch
    I want to see you go by
    to suffer from your thighs
    and begin to cry.

    Translated by Carlos Amantea

     
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