An assignment

Federico García Lorca

Gacela de la terrible presencia

Yo quiero que el agua se quede sin cauce.

Yo quiero que el viento se quede sin valles.

Quiero que la noche se quede sin ojos 

y mi corazón sin la flor del oro.

Que los bueyes hablen con las grandes hojas 

y que la lombriz se muera de sombra.

Que brillen los dientes de la calavera

y los amarillos inunden la seda.

Puedo ver el duelo de la noche herida 

luchando enroscada con el mediodía.

Resisto un ocaso de verde veneno 

y los arcos rotos donde sufre el tiempo.

Pero no me enseñes tu limpio desnudo 

como un negro cactus abierto en los juncos.

Déjame en un ansia de oscuros planetas,

¡pero no me enseñes tu cintura fresca!


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Tarea dos: Evalúe las sigientes traducciones de este poema de Lorca en 300-400 palabras. ¿Cuál es mejor / peor? Utlicen el documento “¿Cómo leer una traducción?” como guía.

Fecha de entrega. 17 de septiembre.
 
Edwin Honig:

Gacela of the Terrible Presence

I want water left blind to its sources.
I want wind left blind to the valleys.

I want night deprived of its eyes
and my heart of its flower of gold.

Let oxen speak with the huge leaves
and earthworms die of the darkness.

Let teeth in the skull glitter and shine
and the yellows shine through the silk.

I can watch wounded night in its duel,
wrestling and writhing with noon.

I can stand in a poison-green sunset
and the ruined archways of suffering time.

But don’t show your nakedness, clean
as black cactus alive in the reeds.

Let me go on fearing dark planets
but don’t show me your glistening waist.


Jack Spicer

Ballad of the Terrible Presence

I want the river lost from its bed
I want the wind lost from its valleys

I want the night to be there without eyes
and my heart without the golden flower

So that oxen talk with big leaves
And the earthworm is dead in shadow

So that the teeth of the skull glisten
And the yellows give a complete colour to silk

I can look at the agony of wounded night
Struggling, twisted up against noontime

I can stand all the sunsets of green poison
And the wornout rainbows that time suffers

But don’t make your clean body too visible
Like a black cactus opened out among rushes

Let me go in an anguish of star clusters
Lose me. But don’t show me that cool flesh.


Paul Archer

Gacela: The Terrible Presence

I want water to be free of channels, 

I want the wind to be free of valleys.

I want the night to be without eyes

and my heart without a golden flower;

for the oxen to talk to the giant leaves

and the earthworm to die of darkness;

for the skull's teeth to gleam 

and yellows flood through silk.

I can see the duel of wounded night

wrestling embroiled with mid-day.

I can endure the sunset's green poison

and the broken arches where time suffers.

But don’t reveal your clean nakedness

like a black cactus out in the rushes.

Leave me longing for the dark planets,

but don’t show me your cool waist.






 
David Bonta

GHAZAL OF THE TERRIBLE PRESENCE

Let the water do without a place to settle;

let the wind do without valleys.

Let the night do without eyes

and my heart without its flower of gold.

I want the steers to talk with the large leaves

and the earthworm to die of shadow.

I want the teeth gleaming in the skull

and the silks drowning in yellow.

I can see the duel between the wounded night

and noon, how they twist and tangle.

I resist a twilight of green venom

and collapsed arches where time suffers on.

But don’t illuminate this limpid nude of yours

like some black cactus open in the bulrushes.

Leave me in an agony of longing for dark planets,

but do not teach me the ways of your cool waist.