translated text // texto traducido
copyright // derechos de autor :: b. a. lederle
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Translator's note: I've twice had the wonderful opportunity of traveling to the comunidad autónima (similar to a US state) and provincia (similar to a US county) in Spain where Albacete is located. Castilla-La Mancha, the autonomous community, is ruggedly beautiful is so many distinct ways that I urge you to take a trip to this area in Spain that many forget to spend time in. The province of Albacete is a fanciful collection of cascading lakes and far-stretching plains that bake in the Spanish sun and offer some of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever witnessed. The region also has some of the most peculiar ruins and it is with this scene in mind that I translated this poem. Lorca uses an ample amount of landscape and nature references in this poem, but they're subtle. I attempted to characterize the summer heat and expansive nature of the plains of La Mancha that act a scene of brutality and hot-blooded interaction in this poem. Mostly it's a word for word translation with some stylistic elements included.
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Midway through the ravine
the blades of Albacete,
beauties of enemy blood,
shimmer like the scales of fish.
A trivial, lasting light 5
in the bitter green snips out
raging horses
and horsemen profiles
At the top of an olive tree
sit two old women, crying. 10
The brawl’s bull
retreats up the walls.
Black angels arrive
with cloths and snow water -
Angels with large wings 15
made of the blades of Albacete.
Juan Antonio de Montilla
rolls down the slope, dead,
his body full of lilies
and a smear of pomegranate in his temples. 20
Now he rides a cross of fire
on the road of death.
With the Guardia Civil, the judge,
comes through the olive grove.
Slipping blood moans the 25
mute song of the serpent
Honorable Guardia Civil:
what happened here happens often.
Four Romans have died
and five Carthaginians. 30
This crazy afternoon, marked by
fig trees and hot rumors,
unconsciously falls onto the injured
thighs of the horsemen.
And black angels flew around 35
through the westerly wind.
Angels with olive braids
and hearts of olive oil.
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Alcalá del Júcar :: Albacete, Spain
Photo Credit
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Translator's note: I've twice had the wonderful opportunity of traveling to the comunidad autónima (similar to a US state) and provincia (similar to a US county) in Spain where Albacete is located. Castilla-La Mancha, the autonomous community, is ruggedly beautiful is so many distinct ways that I urge you to take a trip to this area in Spain that many forget to spend time in. The province of Albacete is a fanciful collection of cascading lakes and far-stretching plains that bake in the Spanish sun and offer some of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever witnessed. The region also has some of the most peculiar ruins and it is with this scene in mind that I translated this poem. Lorca uses an ample amount of landscape and nature references in this poem, but they're subtle. I attempted to characterize the summer heat and expansive nature of the plains of La Mancha that act a scene of brutality and hot-blooded interaction in this poem. Mostly it's a word for word translation with some stylistic elements included.
_
Midway through the ravine
the blades of Albacete,
beauties of enemy blood,
shimmer like the scales of fish.
A trivial, lasting light 5
in the bitter green snips out
raging horses
and horsemen profiles
At the top of an olive tree
sit two old women, crying. 10
The brawl’s bull
retreats up the walls.
Black angels arrive
with cloths and snow water -
Angels with large wings 15
made of the blades of Albacete.
Juan Antonio de Montilla
rolls down the slope, dead,
his body full of lilies
and a smear of pomegranate in his temples. 20
Now he rides a cross of fire
on the road of death.
With the Guardia Civil, the judge,
comes through the olive grove.
Slipping blood moans the 25
mute song of the serpent
Honorable Guardia Civil:
what happened here happens often.
Four Romans have died
and five Carthaginians. 30
This crazy afternoon, marked by
fig trees and hot rumors,
unconsciously falls onto the injured
thighs of the horsemen.
And black angels flew around 35
through the westerly wind.
Angels with olive braids
and hearts of olive oil.
_
Alcalá del Júcar :: Albacete, Spain
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