Editor’s Note: although we include the originals in this text, to introduce the poems of Luz Pichel, she is a Galician poet, a region in Spain with its own language (Gallego) which although bears similarities to Spanish (Castellano) is strikingly different. Luz Pichel mixes both languages in her work, but we as translators, have translated both into English, (apart from the little French ditty On The Bridge of Avignon in the first poem) hence the footnotes will often indicate the original Gallego scripts in the texts.
(1.) the south mama maría i did not take you to the south nor to the southern station so you could see floor 0 floor 1 floor 2 the general view 1 prices maps tickets tours southern pages news the such a pretty cross I have to go one summer with you to the heavens to see the southern cross mama the south in all the languages of the world your name mother in all the stars in all the ways of milk in our lovely rude tongue mother 2 south in french listen well sur la table 3 a girl opened on the sacrificial table 4 sur le pont d'avignon l'on y danse l'on y danse sur-face what do they make? who makes the south? who builds the south? who profits from the south? who profits? 5 les beaux messieurs font comme ça et puis encore comme ça (bang bang bang a piggy gesture) sur le sable 6 the cobra of fear crawled on the sand he left engraved his SS the general view mama these will be the plots of memory l'on y dance tous en rond les militaires font comme ça (bang, bang bang a homicide a child) et puis comme ça les beaux messieurs e les militaires the building of the south mama patricia mare mâe 7 our south their south les belles dames les belles dames dansent elles font comme ça et puis encore comme ça the south mama eva mamá álvaro rafa guadalupe francisca rosalía alfonsina federico emily luis chámase mamá manuel mamá manuela/ where your migrant shins grew skinny on the sacrificial table 8 one day we will go all together there to the south mamai they still have to see us dance on the cobra's SS e puis encore 9 dance we're all going to be prima ballerinas mama noelina the musicians will do like this like this like this and still again if it is the case like this another time / comme ça 10
**
vista xeral 1
na nosa lingua ruin bonita nai 2
on the table 3
sobre da mesa do sacrificio abríase a rapaza aquela 4
que fan?
quen fai o sur?
quen constrúe o sur? quen aproveita o sur?
quen se aproveita? 5
on the sand 6
mother mama 7
onde medraron as túas canelas migratorias
fracas na tabla do sacrificio 8
and then again 9
e os músicos farán así e así e así
e despois aínda si es caso outra vez así/ comme ça 10
(1.)
el sur mamá maría al sur no te he llevado ni a la estación del sur para que vieras planta 0 planta 1 planta 2 vista xeral los precios los mapas los tickets los recorridos las páginas del sur las noticias la cruz tan guapa he de ir un verano contigo al cielo a ver la cruz del sur mam el sur en todas las linguas do mundo tu nombre de madre en todas las estrellas en todas las vias de la leche para que veas na nosa lingua ruín bonita nai sur en francés escucha bien sur la table sobre da mesa do sacrificio abríase a rapaza aquela sur le pont d’avignon l'on y danse l'on y danse sur--face que fan? quen fai o sur? quen constrúe o sur? quen aproveita o sur? quen se aproveita? les beaux messieurs font comme ça et puis encore comme ça (bang bang bang un gesto guarro) sur le sable se arrastraba la cobra del miedo sobre la arena dejaba grabadas sus eses vista general mama estas serán las eras de la memoria l'on y dance tous en rond les militaires font comme ça (bang, bang bang un homicidio un niño) et puis comme ça les beaux messieurs e les militaires construcción del sur mamá patricia mare mâe el nuestro el de ellas les belles dames les belles dames dansent elles font comme ça et puis encore comme ça o sur mamá eva mamá álvaro rafa guadalupe francisca rosalía alfonsina federico emily luis chámase mamá manuel mamá manuela/ onde medraron as túas canelas migratorias fracas na tabla do sacrificio un día vamos a ir todas juntas allá hasta el sur mamai para que sepas aún nos han de ver danzar sobre la ese de la cobra e puis encore danzar vamos a ser todas unas bailarinas de primera mamá noelina e os músicos farán así e así e así e despois aínda si es caso outra vez así/ comme ça
(2.)
I give you a herb you said inside a letter take this leaf grandma I found it it has dust her name is luz 1 a tiny green thread an oval drawing and the moon rolling down a rock smell of orange blossom this is called orange he said it is something to eat I bought it at the cattle fair for you a chick being hatched is not easy either if there is no ear of wheat if there is no waiting if there is no space some when they are hatched their roost is spoiled they go luz but the leaf has nerves covered in dust but do not then get confused but blow the woman picked up an ear of wheat from the ground an ear of wheat has little flour but it will make sense orange falls the moment you passed by it rolls smells I wanted to make a simple thing to give you to give them to give you to make an old age a death even a thing like the spiral peel of an orange unspoiled (unlike the pedros´ baby girl who came badly) sometimes the peel is torn take luz an orange look I found it in the air and luz is not luz either neither is a leaf that falls - hayu hayuná hayunaí there! (someone celebrates something) a woman on the door step gazes out to far far away her name was orange she peeled well she came out unspoiled she had been learning simply to fall in a spiral on herself
1. Light.
(2.)
te regalo una hierba dijiste dentro de una carta toma esta hoja abuela la encontré tiene polvo se llama luz un hilito verde un dibujo ovalado y la luna rodando por una roca olor a azahar esto se llama naranja dijo es cosa de comer en la feria la compré para ti un pollito naciendo tampoco es fácil si no hay espiga si no hay espera si no hay espacio algunos cuando nacen se les rompe la casa se van luz pero la hoja tiene los nervios cubiertos de polvo entonces pero no confundirse pero soplar la mujer recogía del suelo una espiga de trigo una espiga de trigo poquita harina tiene pero tendrá sentido naranja cae en el momento en que tú pasabas por allí rueda huele yo quería hacer una cosa sencilla para darte para darles paro daros hacer una vejez una muerte incluso una cosa así como la piel en espiral de una naranja cuando se logra entera (la niña de los de pedro no se logró tampoco venía mal) a veces se desgarra la piel toma luz una naranja mira la encontré en el aire y luz tampoco es luz tampoco es una hoja que cae -- ¡hayú hayuná hayunaí allá! (alguien celebra algo) una mujer en el umbral se asoma al otro lado mira desde muy muy lejos se llamaba naranja pelaba bien salía entera había ido aprendiendo a caer sencillamente en espiral sobre sí misma
(3.)
Babe take flowers to Chekhov´s grave take a little branch if you go to russia one day do that you go and take flowers but there when you grow up a seagull at a beach give her flight so when you go to russia you ask do you know where´s Chekhov´s grave it must have a painted sea bird he went cold she was the apple of his eye she closed his eyes wide open like portals of a house without people like a hot cross bun she crossed his eyelids and she said to herself said told herself I´ll go dad I´ll go leave in peace I ´ll go even if it rains then the little one put four slices of bread inside a bag a small bottle of water only four of bread only ´cos it would get hard inside a bag she started walking into the hill without anyone seeing her ´cos it was not proper to wait to grow up to go and put some flowers over a grave in russia
(3.)
nena llévale flores a la tumba de chejov &nnsp; llévale un ramito si vas a rusia un día tú lo haces vas y le llevas flores pero allá cuando seas grande una gaviota en una playa échala a volar después vas a rusia preguntas usted sabrá dónde la tumba de chejov debe de tener pintado un pájaro marino se quedó ella era la niña de los ojos de él le cerró los ojos que los tenía así portales de una casa sin gente le hizo la cruz del pan sobre los párpados y se dijo a sí misma dijo dijo para sí he de ir papá he de ir marcha tranquilo he de ir aunque llueva entonces la pequeña cuatro rebanadas de pan en una bolsa botellita de agua sólo cuatro de pan sólo que se iba a poner duro en una bolsa echó a andar monte adentro sin que la viera nadie pues no era del caso esperar a ser grande para ir a poner unas flores encima de una tumba en rusia
(4.)
harriet tubman was born araminta ross maria was born agnieszka norma was born conchita fernán was born cecilia pocahontas was born matoaka álvaro was born álvar raphaël was born rafita hypatia of alexandria was born a martyr annika was born anita rachael was born raquel andrzej naceu 1 andrés christine was born george carla was born carlos lucas naceu lilia mary shelley was born mary godwin dolly naceu dolly non saíu / she never left the roslin institute
1. was born
(4.)
harriet tubman nació araminta ross maría nació agnieszka norma nació conchita fernán nació cecilia pocahontas nació matoaka álvaro nació álvar raphaël nació rafita hypatia de alejandría nació mártir annika nació anita rachael nació raquel andrzej naceu andrés christine was born george carla nació carlos lucas naceu lilia mary shelley nació mary godwin dolly naceu dolly non saíu / no salió nunca del roslin institute
(5.)
harriet tubman rests her head lays it on the train track and sleeps she leads ahead because she knows languages understands the signs bears the beatings knows the underground rail ways and sees what cannot be seen and dreams what cannot be dreamt next to harriet all the others sleep over the track non return trips are long forests are very scary bugs and smugglers are very scary some countries are far too far they are so far away some mornings never reach a train station never never arrive they pass by in the darkness things look like bundles the ones who move carrying linen bags or with a little old lady on their shoulders they look like wolves mist on her palm a woman has written a verse in orange ink the train track is not a cosy pillow the cold doesn´t let you keep your ideas safe sleep and dream the message read the deeper the dream the farther it takes you little foreigner
(5.)
descansa a cabeza harriet tubman póusaa na vía do tren e dorme ela vai por diante porque sabe linguas entende os letreiros aguanta os paus / los palos coñece os camiños de ferro sub da terra e ve o que non se ve e soña o que non se soña a caronciño / a la vera de harriet as outras dormen todas sobre da vía as viaxes sen retorno fanse largas as fragas/ bosques meten moito medo meten medo os bichos e os estraperlistas algúns países están lonxe de máis/ quedan tan tan lejos algunhas mañás/mañanas non chegan nunca á estación dun tren/ no llegan nunca nunca pasan na escuridade as cousas semellan vultos os que se moven cargando con sacos de liño/ lino ou cunha velliña ao lombo/ una viejecita sobre los hombros semellan lobos néboa/ niebla na man aberta ten escrito a muller un verso con tinta de cor laranxa a vía do tren non é unha almofada xeitosa/ una almohada agradable no es la vía de un tren o frío non permite acomodar as ideas sen perigo/ peligro durme e soña dicía a mensaxe o soño canto máis fondo máis lonxe te leva/ más lejos te transporta extranxeiriña
Translations Amparo Arróspide & Robin Ouzman Hislop
Bio Photo. Luz Pichel & Amparo Arróspide. November 2017. Madrid.
Luz Pichel was born in 1947 in Alén (Lalín, Pontevedra), a tiny village in Galicia. Alén means “beyond” and also means “the beyond”. There she learned to speak in a language that could die but does not want to. Those who speak that language think that it is always others those who speak well.
She is the author of the poetry books El pájaro mudo (1990, City of Santa Cruz de la Palma Award), La marca de los potros (2004, XXIV Latin American poetry prize Juan Ramón Jiménez), Casa pechada (2006, Esquío Poetry Award ), El pájaro mudo y otros poemas (2004), Cativa en su lughar / Casa pechada (2013), Tra (n) shumancias (2015) and Co Co Co Ú (2017).
Part of her work Casa pechada was translated into English and Irish in the anthological book To the winds our sails: Irish writers translate Galician poetry, Salmonpoetry, 2010, ed. Mary O’Donnell & Manuela Palacios.
Neil Anderson translated into English Casa pechada. Several poems appeared in his blog (re) voltas; July, 2014.
Several poems from Casa pechada appeared in the American magazines SALAMANDER, No. 41, year 2015, and PLEIADES, vol. 36, Issue 2, p. 117, year 2016, in English translation by Neil Anderson.
Amparo Arróspide (born in Buenos Aires) is an M.Phil. by the University of Salford. As well as poems, short stories and articles on literature and films in anthologies and international magazines, she has published five poetry collections: Presencia en el Misterio, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinación en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pañuelos de usar y tirar and En el oído del viento. The latter is part of a trilogy together with Jacuzzi and Hormigas en diaspora, which are in the course of being published. In 2010 she acted as a co-editor of webzine Poetry Life Times, where many of her translations of Spanish poems have appeared, she has translated authors such as Margaret Atwood, Stevie Smith and James Stephens into Spanish, and others such as Guadalupe Grande, Ángel Minaya, Francisca Aguirre, Carmen Crespo, Javier Díaz Gil into English. She takes part in poetry festivals, recently Centro de Poesía José Hierro (Getafe).
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times his publications include All the Babble of the Souk and Cartoon Molecules collected poems and Key of Mist the recently published Tesserae translations from Spanish poets Guadalupe Grande and Carmen Crespo visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds) .
