sábado, 2 de mayo de 2009

Poema de Marina Tsvetaeva


Dejo un pequeño extracto del "Don Juan" de la poeta rusa. En este poema Don Juan y Carmen se encuentran. Por supuesto ella le da en la testa. Dejo la traducción en inglés porque no lo conseguí en ninguna otra lengua medianamente próxima. En los comentarios dejo el poema completo con sus 7 partes. La foto es de la autora, que, como verán, no se parece mucho a Carmen.

And this Don Juan had Donna Anna,
And this Don Juan possessed a sword.
Of the beautiful, unhappy Don Juan
This from people is the only word.

But I was a clever one today:
I at midnight stepped on roadside,
Someone went along with me in stride
Calling names.

And in fog the staff paled, a strange one..
There was no Donna Anna for Don Juan!

1 comentario:

  1. Don Juan - Marina Tsvetaeva

    1
    Under the sixth birch
    At the corner church
    On the frosty dawn
    Wait, Don Juan!

    But with groom, alas,
    And my life I swear,
    There is nowhere
    In my land to kiss!

    We don't have a fountain,
    And the well did freeze,
    Strict, severe eyes
    Does Madonna have.

    And so that the beauties
    Trifles would not hear
    We have loud and clear
    Ringing of the bell.

    Here I would have lived,
    But - I will grow old,
    You don't like my world
    O the handsome one.

    Ah, in a bear coat
    It's hard to recognize you,
    If not for your lips too,
    O Don Juan!


    2
    Long upon the foggy dawn
    The snowstorm did weep.
    In a bed of snow they lay
    Don Juan to sleep.

    No hot stars above his head,
    Not a roaring fountain..
    Othodox cross is on the chest
    Of our Don Juan.

    I have brought a Sevillian
    Fan, black, so that night
    That's eternal, for yourself
    Would become more light.

    That you'd see a woman's beauty
    With your own sight,
    I will bring without a doubt
    A heart to you tonight.

    And for now - from distant lands -
    Sleep now, sleep in peace! -
    You have come to me. Complete,
    Don Juan, is your list.


    3
    Aren't you tired, after so many roses,
    Cities and toasts
    To love me? You're almost a skeleton,
    I'm almost a ghost.

    And why should I know, that you had to call
    On a higher power?
    And why should I know, that there was smell of Nile
    In my hair?
    No, I better tell you a tale:
    January it was.
    A monk with a mask carried a flashlight.
    Someone threw a rose.

    Someone's drunken voice at cathedral walls
    Prayed and swore.
    Don Juan of Castille met Carmen
    At this hour.


    4
    Exactly - midnight.
    Moon - like a hawk.
    "Why - do you peer?"
    "Thus - I peer!"
    "Do you like me?" "No."
    "Do you recognize me?" "Maybe."
    "I am Don Juan."
    "And I am Carmen."


    5
    And this Don Juan had Donna Anna,
    And this Don Juan possessed a sword.
    Of the beautiful, unhappy Don Juan
    This from people is the only word.

    But I was a clever one today:
    I at midnight stepped on roadside,
    Someone went along with me in stride
    Calling names.

    And in fog the staff paled, a strange one..
    There was no Donna Anna for Don Juan!


    6
    And the silk sash is falling
    To his feet - a snake heavenly..
    And "someday, when she's underground,
    You will calm down" they tell me.

    I see my profile, old
    And arrogant in brocade white.
    And somewhere - guitars - guitars -
    And youths in a cloak like the night.

    And somebody under mask hiding:
    "Recognize!" - "I don't know" - "Recognize!"
    And the silk sash is falling
    On a square round like paradise.


    7
    And fanning in eyes of the coming
    Sadness and sin,
    You pass the city - brutally-black,
    Heavenly-thin.

    Covered with torment, like with fog,
    Is your eye.
    In loop - a rose, in all the pockets -
    Words of love. Aye!

    I hear your call over the restaurant
    Violin.
    I send a smile to you from the distance,
    Robber king!

    And then I recognize that same look,
    Spreading my wings,
    With which in Castille at me stared
    Your older sibling.

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