Tag: #English

Reverie / El Ensueño

Rain drops fall through a puddle.
In their wake a sizzling hole. 
The water drains. 
At the bottom babies
Wake up, levitate, and fly away. 

El agua se viene de abajo el charco. 
Al pasar un agujero chisporroteante. 
El agua vacía. 
Los niños están al pie de un pozo 
Se despiertan, levitan y se echan a volar.

Ahora vuelvo a ser yo / Now I Become Myself

The following poem was originally composed by May Sarton, a 20th-century Belgian-American writer. I first encountered this poem in 2019 when I was going through a difficult breakup. I confided in a friend, melodramatically saying that I “had lost myself.” They countered by reciting this poem in its entirety, which at the time I found to be insensitive, as they were stealing my thunder. But as the poem has stuck with me, I’ve come to appreciate it as a gift.

Sarton is not a very famous writer, and I haven’t yet found an English – Spanish translation of her work. So, I gave it a go. But, I have translated only the first stanza, which I consider to be the most focused and illuminative. 

Ahora vuelvo a ser yo                                                   Now I become myself

Ahora vuelvo a ser yo. Había tomado                         Now I become myself. It's taken
De tiempo atrás, muchos años y sitios;                     Time, many years and places;

Me había disuelta y alterada                                        I have been dissolved and shaken
Usada las caras de otras                                              I have worn other people's faces

Corro tontamente                                                         Run madly,
como si El Tiempo fuera allí                                        As if Time were there, 

Abuelo fatal, grita una advertencia                           Terribly old, crying a warning
"Ven, serás muerta antes de-"                                  "Hurry, you will be dead before-"

Qué? Antes de que llegas al alba?                            What? Before you reach the dawn? 
O realizas el fin de la poema?                                    Or the end of the poem is clear?