Saturday, April 19, 2014

Two Lorca Poems (in translation)


                    

                    ‘Ay voz secreta del amor oscuro!’


                     O secret voice of hidden love!

                    O bleating without wool! O wound!
                    O dry camellia, bitter needle!
                    O sea-less current, wall-less city!

                    O night immense with sharpened profile,
                    heavenly mountain, narrow valley!
                    O dog inside the heart, voice going,
                    endless silence, full-blown iris!

                    Let me be, hot voice of icebergs,
                    and do not ask me to vanish
                    in weeds, where sky and flesh are fruitless.

                    Leave my hard ivory skull forever,
                    have pity on me. Stop the torture!
                    O I am love, O I am nature!



Rachel Ryusch (1664-1750)


                    Song of the Barren Orange Tree

                    Woodcutter.

                    Cut out my shadow.
                    Free me from the torture
                    of seeing myself fruitless.

                    Why was I born among mirrors?
                    The daylight revolves around me.
                    And the night herself repeats me
                    in all her constellations.

                    I want to live not seeing self.
                    I shall dream the husks and insects
                    change inside my dreaming
                    into my birds and foliage.

                    Woodcutter.
                    Cut out my shadow.
                    Free me from the torture
                    of seeing myself fruitless.

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