December 2012 - Comments Off

Blas de Otero

translation by Mariyama Scott '15

today I have not one rampart
that I might call my own.
(From an old poem.)

Not one word
will spring from my lips
that is not
true.
Not one syllable,
that is not
needed.
I lived
to see
the tree
of words, bore
witness
to man, leaf by leaf.
I burned bridges
of wind.
I destroyed
dreams, planted
living
words.
Not a single one
did I subdue:
I unearthed
silence, in broad sunlight.
My days
are numbered,
one,
two,
four
books erased the oblivion,
and I stop counting.
Oh field,
oh mountain, oh River
Darro: erase me
alive.
Blue peaks of my homeland,
lift up
your voice.
Today I have not one rampart
that I might call my own.
Oh air,
oh lost seas.
Break
against my verse, resound
free.

Original:

hoy no tengo una almena
que pueda decir que es mía.
(De un romance viejo.)

Ni una palabra
brotará en mis labios
que no sea
verdad.
Ni una sílaba,
que no sea
necesaria.
Viví
para ver
el árbol
de las palabras, di
testimonio
del hombre, hoja a hoja.
Quemé las naves
del viento.
Destruí
los sueños, planté
palabras
vivas.
Ni una sola
sometí: desenterré
silencio, a pleno sol.
Mis días
están contados,
uno,
dos,
cuatro
libros borraron el olvido,
y paro de contar.
Oh campo,
oh monte, oh río
Darro: borradme
vivo.
Alzad,
cimas azules de mi patria,
la voz.
Hoy no tengo una almena
que pueda decir que es mía.
Oh aire,
oh mar perdidos.
Romped
contra mi verso, resonad
libres.

Published by: in Poetry, Volume 69: Issue 1

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