La paloma azul
What a beautiful blue dove, which with its wings flies where it wishes! What a lovely blue dove! Do not have too much to do with anyone.
Open your wings. I am the keeper of your love.
Now with this I bid you adieu, my love, by tipping the brim of my hat, and here ends the singing, my love, of the little verses of Laredo."
Mi canción (Rabindranath Tagore)
I. Mi Canción
My song will be like a pair of wings to your dreams, it will transport your heart to the verge of the unknown. It will be like the faithful star overhead when dark night is over your road. My song will sit in the pupils of your eyes, and will carry your sight into the heart of things.
When my voice goes silent, my heart will continue to speak in your living heart.
II. Cuando te canto
When I sing to you my love, I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth—when I sing to you my love.
III. Lo que se puede, Maestro
I shall do what I can, my Master,' said the clay lamp to the sun. If by night you cry looking for the sun, you won't be able to see the stars.
Life is given to us and we deserve it by giving it. Not because you pluck its leaves from the flower will you be able to take the beauty of it. Do not stop to collect flowers to save them, if not, walk and walk so that the flowers will save themselves and open on your way. Praise makes me ashamed because I beg for it in secret.
Tríptico sobre poesía cubana
I. Guitarra (Nicolas Guillen)
Lying down in the early morning,
the firm guitar waits:
voice of deep wood
desperate.
Its clamorous waist,
for which the people sigh,
pregnant with sound, stretches
its hard flesh.
And it raised its fine head
Universal and Cuban
without opium, nor marihuana,
nor cocaine.
Take her, you, guitar man,
clean your mouth of alcohol,
and on that guitar, play
your full sound.
The sound of ripe desire
of an open future,
of a foot crossing over the wall,
your full sound.
II. Canción de cuna para dormir un negrito (Emilio Ballagas)
Lullaby for a Little Black Boy
Go to sleep, my black boy,
go to sleep, little black boy.
Caimito and meringue,
meringue and caimito.
Go to sleep, my black boy,
my pretty black boy.
Tooth of meringue,
lip of caimito!
When you are big,
you are going to be a boxer…
Black boy of my life,
black boy of my love.
III. Nocturno en los muelles (Nicolas Guillen)
Nocturne on the Docks
Under the tropical night, the port.
The water laps the innocent shore
and the lighthouse insults the deserted pier.
What calm so robust and so natural!
But over the solitary docks
floats a tempestuous nightmare.
Ghost of cemeteries and of ossuaries,
that teaches on anguished chalkboards
how the same pain is broken into pieces.
Oh strong fist, elemental and hard!
Who restrains your open gesture?
Nobody responds to the pain of the port.
The lighthouse screams over the dark sea.
—Nicholas Miguel
Dime from Zorro
Tell me why you don’t love me
You should know that I live for you
Look at me but with sincere eyes
Full of love, only for me
Tell me why I adore you so much
What spell have you cast on me
Tell me, what did you do to me
That prevents me from seeking a better life
Tell me why you don’t love me
You should know that I live for you
Notice how much I am suffering
Longing for the taste of your lips one more time
What pain!
Remember happier times
Remember your promise of love
Forever you and I.
But you abandoned me in an abysmal loneliness
3 poemas de González Martínez Trans. by Charbel Yubaile
I. Nocturno de las rosas
Three roses in this amphora,
of varied hues, alike in beauty
Oh sorrow, oh remembrance, oh hope!
The perfume of yesterday, it poisons…
Does not pain kill?
The tree with dead leaves is sobbing
Life, doomed to despair, if your wait is hopeless
Why linger through the night beside the window?
Who may be rapping?
the hammer on my latch I hear it knocking
In the sinister night
Yesterday’s night and the increasing sorrow
The weary sleepless watching here and waiting.
Three roses in this amphora
Of varied hues, alike in beauty.
II. Onda (Wave)
This tenacious brook
unwinds its azure ribbon
from yonder bare rock,
yesterday it was only furtive water,
Become fleeting hope, fast disappearing
Its crystal trill
once seemed a curious voice
in mystery shrouded, meaningless and hollow
now it knows what it sings, what it weeps
And can tell us about the mountain’s sorrow.
Lost and blind to its fate
crossed yesterday the sandy soil
today it is afraid to reach the river
And foretells the seas of death awaiting.
La Despedida (The Farewell)
Shall not kiss me in
My last hour of anguish of pain
and it will be worthless
to seek the caress of her hand
with the desire that I seek it now
and death will be like the distant dawn
lost in her dreams.
Closely I will feel
the faint breath
That filial grief and mournful cries.
But not her kiss… the tragic bitterness
from that last look in her eyes
remains forever
Each time more persistent and deeper within me.
Her eyes like those of a wounded dove
sealed the supreme farewell
should there be no other voyage
No other meeting.
Milonga sentimental
A milonga to remember you,
a sentimental milonga.
Others complain by crying;
I sing not to cry.
Your love dried all of a sudden
you never told me why.
I comfort myself by thinking
that it was a woman’s betrayal.
I’ll be a man to love you very much,
a man to wish you well,
a man to forget affronts
because I already forgave you.
Maybe you will never know,
maybe you won’t be able to believe it,
maybe it’ll make you laugh
watching me down at your feet!
Volver (Return)
With the withered forehead
The snows of time silvered my temple
Feel
that life is a breath
That 20 years is nothing, that feverish look
Wandering in the shadows, he looks for you and names you
Live
with the soul clinging
To a sweet memory that I cry again
I'm afraid of the meeting
with the past that returns
to face my life
I'm afraid of the nights
How full of memories
Chain my dream
But the fleeing traveler
Sooner or later
stops his walk
And although oblivion, that everything destroys
I have killed my old illusion
I keep hidden a humble hope
that is all the fortune of my heart
Se va con algo mío
He leaves with something of mine
the afternoon that moves away;
my pain of living
It is a pain to love;
and to the sound of the garúa,
in the old alley,
An infinite desire to cry invades me.
These are childish things,
you tell me; who gave me
having a perennial
infantile unconsciousness;
be of the kingdom of day and spring,
of the singing nightingale
and the April dawn.
Ah, to be childish, to be pure,
to be singing, to be soft trill,
perfume or song, twilight or dawn
like the flower that smells life
and doesn't know it,
like the star that illuminates the nights
and ignores it!
La toronja y el limón (the grapefruit and the lemon)
In a little tight road
they suddenly found each other;
the lemon and the grapefruit.
The grapefruit went out to get water;
the lemon out for a little
Sweet syrup for his blood.
“How long have I looked for you
and finally I have you near me!
I love you, you know? I love you!
and we’ll get married soon.
The lemon spoke so seriously
with a face so bitter,
that the poor little grapefruit
closed her two thousand little eyes;
And she fainted unto the arms
of the trailblazer lemon.
And then later a girl was born,
shame of grapefruits
and pride of lemons.
The elders of the house
baptized the girl
with the name of Orange.
La negra noche
The dark night spread its mantle,
The fog arose, the light died.
And in the darkness of my sad soul,
Like a star, you appeared.
Come, illuminate the barren path
Where wild illusions wander.
Give me just one hope
To strengthen my heart.
When at night
The dew is born,
And in the gardens,
The flower blooms;
So in my soul, beloved child,
My love was born.
And I see appearing
Behind the window
Your charming angelic face.
I feel joy,
Within my soul, there is no darkness,
There is no darkness anymore, the sun has risen.
When at night
The dew is born,
And in the gardens,
The flower blooms;
So in my soul, beloved child,
My love was born.
And I see appearing
Behind the window
Your charming angelic face.
I feel joy,
Within my soul, there is no darkness,
There is no darkness anymore, the sun has risen.
Siboney
Siboney, I love you, I would die for your love
Siboney, in your mouth, honey put its sweetness
Come here, for I want you
And you are a treasure
Siboney, from the murmur of your palm, I think of you
Siboney, of my dreams
Can you hear the yearning in my voice
Siboney, if you don’t come, I’ll die from love
Siboney, of my dreams
I wait for you with angst in my hut
Siboney, if you don’t come, I’ll die from love
Hear the echo of my crystal song
Don’t let it get lost in the noise of the jungle
No sé lo que he soñado...
I wept while I was dreaming
That thou didst buried lie;
I woke, and with my weeping
My cheeks were not yet dry.
I wept while I was dreaming
That thou hadst gone from me;
I woke, and still kept weeping
Full long and bitterly.
I wept while I was dreaming
That thou didst love me well;
I woke, and--woe is me, love--
My tears are flowing still.
De lo poco de vida que me resta
Of the little life remaining to me
I’d gladly give the best years
If I could learn what you have told
Others about me
And I’d give this mortal life, and any share I have
In life eternal, if I have any share
If I could learn what you thought
About me when you were alone.
Tú eras el huracán...
You were the total storm, and I the high
tower that defied it.
Either you blew yourself out, or else you demolished me...
It could not be!
You were the ocean, and I the lofty
rock that wouldn't be rocked.
Either you broke on me or else you ripped me out...
It could not be!
You were gorgeous and I was haughty; accustomed
the one to sweep away, the other to stand fast;
narrow the field, inevitable the shock...
It could not be!
Cancionero Gitano
1. Bells of Cordoba at dawn.
dawn’s bells in Granada.
All girls feel the bells
who cry tenderly
in the sunny mourning
The girls of Andalusia the tall
and the short one
The children from spain
Of small feet
and trembling skirts,
that have filled with lights the crossroads.
Bells of Cordoba at dawn.
bells of dawn in Granada!
2. The weeping of the guitar begins
the cups break at dawn
It's useless to make her stop
It is impossible make her stop
It weeps monotonously
as the water cries
as the wind cries over the snowfall
It is impossible make her stop
It weeps over distant matters
Hot southern sand
who asks for white camellias.
The targetless arrow weeps,
the afternoon without tomorrow,
and the first dead bird on the branch
Oh guitar! A heart wounded by five swords.
3. Oh, gitana petenera!
Alas petenera!
Your funeral had no girls
Girls who give dead Christ their locks,
and they wear white mantillas at fairs.
Your funeral was of sinister people
people with heart in the head,
that kept crying through the alleys
Oh, gitana petenera!
Alas, petenera!
Perfume
The Flowers
I think about my poor flores,
the fading, the sickly, suffering and forgotten,
that before departing, they say goodbye sadly and tragically.
The sad flowers, the hurting flowers,
Refreshed in the water of the glass
Pensively bathing in a white ideality of pearls.
And later they go far away… they depart
Abandoned, pale, sick,
Very far away from the car of that glass…
Tired Eternity
When alone, pensive,
hurt by the eternal nostalgia,
I feel a perfume sad, morbid,
They reaches my soul.
My life is such as…
My Green Glass
My unclear glass, pale and beloved,
Where I keep my favorite flowers,
Has the color of seaweed
Has the color of my dead hope.
Foreign, borrowed, worn, broken, outdated, faded,
weighs me, hinders me, and depresses me.
La barca del marino
The sailor's boat takes away
The one I adore,
It takes away my treasure,
My love, my adoration.
Stop it. Oh God! Stop it,
For it steals my peace. María,
It captures my soul,
My love, my adoration.
María, treasure of my soul:
"Goodbye, forever goodbye!"
Alfonsina y el Mar Translation by César Andrés Parreño
On the soft sand that the sea touches
Her little footprints won't be seen again.
A path of only pain and silence
Reached the deep water.
A path only of muted pains
Reach the foam of the sea.
God knows what anguished accompanied you,
What old pains your voice your voice hushed
So that you would lay down with the lullaby
of the seashells
The song sung at the dark depths of the sea
By the seashells.
You leave Alfonsina, with your solitude,
What new poems did you go looking for?
An old voice of wind and salt
It breaks the soul and its taking her
And you go towards there, with your dreams
Asleep, Alfonsina, dressed of the sea.
Five little mermaids will take you
Through paths of seaweed and coral
And phosphorescent seahorses will dance,
Circling around you.
And the inhabitants of the waters will soon
Play by your side.
Turn down the light a little bit more,
Let me sleep, nursing in peace.
And if he calls, do not tell him that I am here
Tell him that Alfonsina does not return.
And if he calls, do not tell him that I am here
Tell him that Alfonsina does not return.
You leave Alfonsina, with your solitude,
What new poems did you go looking for?
An old voice of wind and salt
It breaks the soul and its taking her
And you go towards there, with your dreams
Asleep, Alfonsina, dressed of the sea.
Flor de mayo (May Flower)
Tomorrow you are arriving
Ray of sunshine that I feel
Take me through the savannah
Take me savannah inside
Tomorrow you are arriving
Ray of sunshine that I feel
May Flower, May Flower, May Flower
You are not as brave as a butterfly
May Flower, May Flower
Green leaf water
Early dew drops
Tell me goodbye, I'm going far away
Singing when the dawn dies
Green leaf water
Early dew drops
Riding on my gray horse
My copla springs up and the plain responds
Butterfly, May Flower
Ghost of shadow and moon
Horrors and revivals
shadow and moon ghost
Horrors and revivals
The rooster of my totumo
He drives away with his song
Ghost of shadow and moon
Horrors and revivals
Jet, Surface, White Foam
Sing the rain, summer is over
White Foam, May Flower
Gracias a la vida
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me two bright stars, which when I open them,
I perfectly distinguish black from white,
And in the sky above, the starry backdrop,
And within the multitudes, the man I love.
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
It has given me hearing, which in all its width
Records night and day, crickets and canaries,
Hammers, turbines, barking, showers,
And the tender voice of my beloved.
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
It has given me sound and the alphabet,
And with it, the words I think and declare:
Mother, friend, brother, and the light that shines,
The path of the soul of the one I’m loving.
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
It has given me the march of my tired feet,
With them I have walked through cities and puddles,
Beaches and deserts, mountains and plains,
And your house, your street, and your patio.
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me my heart, which shakes its frame
When I see the fruit of the human brain,
When I see good so far from evil,
When I look at the depth of your clear eyes.
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
It has given me laughter and it has given me tears.
Thus I distinguish joy from sorrow,
The two elements that make up my song,
And your song, which is the same song,
And everyone's song, which is my very own song.
Thank you to life, which has given me so much.
Azulão
Go, bluebird, my companion, go! Go and see my ungrateful love,
say that without her
the badlands are no longer the badlands!
Alas, fly bluebird,
go and tell her, my companion, go!
