Ruiseñores de nuevo es uno de los más conocidos entre Los poemas de José Galván, parte del libro Hacia el sur. Lo proponemos acá traducido al inglés por J. S. Tennant, publicado en el numero 11, Series 3 de Modern Poetry in Translation, entitulado Frontiers.
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Nightingales again
for la payita
in the great firmament of poetry/ or rather/
in the land or world of poetry that includes heavens/ stars/ gods/ mortals/
keats’s nightingale is singing/ always/
rimbaud passes by clutching his 17 years like st. john’s living flame of love/
teresa’s pain doubles and her horse kicks up/
the enamoured dust of francisco de quevedo y villegas/
gentle garcilaso burns in the hells of john donne/
paths fall from césar vallejo for poetry’s feet to tread/
feet that pad silently like a little andean donkey/
baudelaire sends down an albatross from his heavenly kingdom/
mallarmé goes to the party of the impossible in the tailcoats of the albatross/
verlaine’s violin sounds at the party of the impossible/ remember
that blood is possible in the midst of nothing/
that girondo liublimará perrinunca lamora/ and
tuñón’s little boats will turn
against the shrapnel of fear that tortured apollinaire/
oh lou who completely turned her back on the eternity of the journey/
the palace of excess where the wisdom of blake came in/
the paco urondo who lined happiness with lamé
to spare it from the chills of time/
roque dalton who scaled the mainmast of his soul and shouted “ Revolution”
and saw Revolution and Revolution was the only terra firma he could see
and javier heraud who halted oh-so-tenderly in the jungle/
and opened the jungle of his mouth with his clear cascade/
and darío the father who said no to the yankees/
as sandino said no/
and the wide front of poetry and war that also said no to them/
and nicaragua gleams in its way of loving/
martí coming and going in the air with the beloved dead
whom he saw flying like a white rose/
can’t you see my companions flying through the air eighty years later?/
are you awake to carry on saying no?/
do the dead turn pale like magdalen when she kneaded
her bread with more tears than flour?/ until that day comes?/
the day on which all of latin america will slowly rise?/
lovingly?/ sailing like my planets from the south do?/
now the nightingale of the greek sings at the bottom of the centuries/
walt whitman passes by with the nightingale on his shoulder singing in paumanok/
comandante guevara passes by on the shoulders of the nightingale/
the nightingale passes by that distanced itself silently from life like a little andean donkey
on behalf of those who fall defending life/
the moon passes by with pink fingers/
sappho passes by sheltering the nightingale
that sings/ sings/ sings/
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(from: “The poems of José Galván” in Southwards)
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J.S. Tennant is a writer and translator who works for a publishing house in London. He studied at Trinity College, Dublin, and Salamanca.
