Posts Tagged ‘Federico Garcia Lorca

09
Jul
13

Federico García Lorca’s “Dos lunas de tarde” (a translation)

Federico García Lorca’s poem appears in Canciones, 1921-1924 (Songs, 1921-1924).
//

Dos lunas de tarde

1
   (A Laurita, amiga de mi hermana )

La luna está muerta, muerta;
pero resucita en la primavera.

Cuando en la frente de los chopos
se rice el viento del Sur.

Cuando den nuestros corazones
su cosecha de suspiros.

Cuando se pongan los tejados
sus sombreritos de yerba.

La luna está muerta, muerta;
pero resucita en la primavera.

2
   (A Isabelita, mi hermana )

La tarde canta
una <<berceuse>> a las naranjas.

Mi hermanita canta:
<<La tierra es una naranja>>.

La luna llorando dice:
<<Yo quiero ser una naranja>>.

No puede ser, hija mía,
aunque te pongas rosada.
Ni siquiera limoncito.
¡Qué lástima!

//
//

Two Evening Moons

1
   (to Laurita, my sister’s friend)

The moon is dead, is dead,
but in spring is resurrected.

When the fronts of the poplars
rustle in the southern wind.

When our hearts relinquish
their harvest of sighs.

When rooftops wear
their grass sombreros.

The moon is dead, is dead,
but in spring is resurrected.

2
   (to Isabelita, my sister)

The evening sings
a lullaby to oranges.

My sister sings:
“The earth is an orange.”

The crying moon says:
“I want to be an orange.”

You cannot be, my child,
even if you become a rose.
Not even a little lemon.
Oh, what a pity it is!

//

08
Jul
13

Federico García Lorca’s “Despedida” (a translation)

Federico García Lorca’s poem appears in Canciones, 1921-1924 (Songs, 1921-1924).
//

Despedida

Si muero,
dejad el balcón abierto.

El niño come naranjas.
(Desde mi balcón lo veo).

El segador siega el trigo.
(Desde mi balcón lo siento).

¡Si muero,
dejad el balcón abierto!

//
//

Farewell

If I die,
leave the balcony doors open.

A boy eats oranges.
(From my balcony, I see him.)

The reaper reaps the wheat.
(From my balcony, I’m sorry to hear him.)

If I die,
leave the balcony doors open!

//

07
Jul
13

Federico García Lorca’s “La luna asoma” (a translation)

Federico García Lorca’s poem appears in Canciones, 1921-1924 (Songs, 1921-1924).
//

La luna asoma

Cuando sale la luna
se pierden las campanas
y aparecen las sendas
impenetrables.

Cuando sale la luna,
el mar cubre la tierra
y el corazón se siente
isla en el infinito.

Nadie come naranjas
bajo la luna llena.
Es preciso comer
fruta verde y helada.

Cuando sale la luna
de cien rostros iguales,
la moneda de plata
solloza en el bolsillo.

//
//

The Looming Moon

When the moon rises
bells fade
and impenetrable paths
appear.

When the moon rises,
the ocean covers the earth
and the heart feels
as an island within infinity.

No one eats oranges
under the full moon.
One must eat
green fruit and ice.

When the moon rises
with his hundred identical faces,
the silver coin
within his pocket weeps.

//

06
Jul
13

Federico García Lorca’s “Cancioncilla del primer deseo” (a translation)

Federico García Lorca’s poem appears in Canciones, 1921-1924 (Songs, 1921-1924).

//

Cancioncilla del primer deseo

En la mañana verde,
quería ser corazón.
Corazón.

Y en la tarde madura
quería ser ruiseñor.
Ruiseñor.

   (Alma,
ponte color naranja!
¡Alma,
ponte color de amor.)

En la mañana viva,
yo quería ser yo.
Corazón.

Y en la tarde caída
quería ser mi voz.
Ruiseñor.

   ¡Alma,
ponte color naranja!
¡Alma,
ponte color de amor!

//
//

Ditty of the First Wish

In the green morning,
I want to be a heart.
A heart.

And in the mature afternoon,
I want to be a nightingale.
A nightingale.

   (Soul,
transform to orange.
Soul,
become the color of love.)

In the ripe morning
I want to be me.
A heart.

And in the late night,
I want to be my voice.
A nightingale.

   Soul,
transmute to orange!
Soul,
become the color of love!

//

30
Dec
12

Melissa Kwasny’s Toward the Open Field: Poets on the Art of Poetry, 1800-1850 (2004)

Over the next few weeks or months, I will post all my reviews (“Tom’s Celebrations”) that appeared in Redactions: Poetry, Poetics, & Prose (formerly Redactions: Poetry & Poetics) up to and including issue 12. After that, my reviews appeared here (The Line Break) before appearing in the journal. This review first appeared in issue 4/5, which was published circa early 2005.

//

Melissa Kwasny's – Toward the Open FieldMelissa Kwasny has compiled a collection of worthy essays by poets on free verse, or the movement toward free verse, beginning with William Wordsworth’s “Preface to the Lyrical Ballads” & up to & including Charles Olson’s “Projective Verse.” As with all anthologies, there should be some surprises, or unique opportunities that are seized, & both are had here. Included in this collection are two often overlooked essays: “Modern Poetry” by Mina Loy & “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” by Langston Hughes. But that is not what makes this anthology a unique & exciting collection of poetics. What puts this anthology over the top & is it contains essays from poets of non-English languages, including Charles Baudelaire, Arthur Rimbaud, Stéphane Mallarmé, André Breton, Federico García Lorca, Paul Valéry, & Aimé Césaire. Kwasny’s Toward the Open Field: Poets on the Art of Poetry, 1800-1950  (Wesleyan University Press, 2004) also comes with a decent “Selected Bibliography” for other sources of essays on poetics, but it does lack an index.

I recommend this anthology for every poet’s library as a great reference & to remind us of where we came from & what we are trying to do. I also strongly urge that every MFA program across the land incorporate this anthology into their creative writing poetry classes, as a historical primer for free verse. This anthology is too beneficial for our younger poets to overlook. I do hope another volume comes out that features more essays from 1950-2000 by more contemporary poets. There is always growth in poetry, & there has been significant growth since 1950.//

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Kwasny, Melissa. Toward the Open Field: Poets on the Art of Poetry, 1800-1950. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 2004.//




The Cave (Winner of The Bitter Oleander Press Library of Poetry Book Award for 2013.)

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Poems for an Empty Church

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The Oldest Stone in the World

The Oldest Stone in the Wolrd

Henri, Sophie, & The Hieratic Head of Ezra Pound: Poems Blasted from the Vortex

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Negative Time

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After Malagueña

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