Tag: Translation

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The South American poet 
 
the South American poet demands a context
bitter flowers that stand out from the garden
and at best stimulate the vanished voices 
but the long run is twice as somber 
a deluge now contains another 
like a new tumor after a metastasis 
audible solely to a few—

….

translated from the Spanish by Patricio Ferrari | Asymptote© 2024

Juan Arabia is a poet, literary translator, critic, and editor. Born in Buenos Aires, Arabia is also the founder and director of the cultural and literary project Buenos Aires Poetry. He regularly contributes as a critic for Perfil and Revista Ñ of Clarín, one of the most circulated newspapers in the Spanish-speaking world. Among his latest poetry collections, we find Desalojo de la Naturaleza (Eviction of Nature; Buenos Aires Poetry, 2018), Hacia Carcassonne (Towards Carcassonne; Pre-Textos, 2021), and Bulmenia (Buenos Aires Poetry, 2022). Arabia gained international recognition with El enemigo de los Thirties (Enemy of the Thirties; Buenos Aires Poetry, 2013), leading to his participation in poetry festivals across Latin America, Europe, and China. He has translated works by Arthur Rimbaud, Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, and John Fante, among others, and his poetry has been translated into English, French, Italian, and Romanian. Arabia lives in San Telmo (Buenos Aires) with his wife, designer, and translator Camila Evia, and their son Cátulo.

Patricio Ferrari is a polyglot poet, literary translator, and editor. Born in Merlo to Piemontesi and Calabresi immigrants, he left Argentina at the age of sixteen to attend high school and play soccer in the United States as part of the Rotary Exchange Program. His most recent translations include Verde amargo / Bitter Green by Martin Corless-Smith (with Graciela S. Guglielmone; Buenos Aires Poetry, 2022), The Complete Works of Álvaro de Campos by Fernando Pessoa (with Margaret Jull Costa; New Directions, 2023), and Habla terreña (Field Talk) by Frank Stanford (with Guglielmone; Pre-Textos, 2023). His work has been featured in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, The New York Review of Books, Southwest Review, and Fence, among others. Since 2017, he has resided in New York City, where he is currently working on “Elsehere,” an exophonic trilogy of multilingual poetry. Additionally, he teaches the Master of Fine Arts at Sarah Lawrence College, collaborates with the Endangered Language Alliance, and hosts the World Poetry in Translation reading series.

Point Lookout,  Long Beach, New York

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Pulling some crap
 
Of pardine sun, I embrightened 
          down tired trails 
                     I pulled the crap
of my own face into the mud 
because when we were young
they shielded their wounds 
           and the laden flags
decimated distances 
 
Of lacrimal sun, I embrightened
          the sun to sky
                      I pulled the crap
of the crowded core 
and in the lizard’s pace
          I pondered my dark’s sum 
without the poison of acacia trees
          that endures

….

translated from the Spanish by Patricio Ferrari | Asymptote© 2024

Juan Arabia is a poet, literary translator, critic, and editor. Born in Buenos Aires, Arabia is also the founder and director of the cultural and literary project Buenos Aires Poetry. He regularly contributes as a critic for Perfil and Revista Ñ of Clarín, one of the most circulated newspapers in the Spanish-speaking world. Among his latest poetry collections, we find Desalojo de la Naturaleza (Eviction of Nature; Buenos Aires Poetry, 2018), Hacia Carcassonne (Towards Carcassonne; Pre-Textos, 2021), and Bulmenia (Buenos Aires Poetry, 2022). Arabia gained international recognition with El enemigo de los Thirties (Enemy of the Thirties; Buenos Aires Poetry, 2013), leading to his participation in poetry festivals across Latin America, Europe, and China. He has translated works by Arthur Rimbaud, Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, and John Fante, among others, and his poetry has been translated into English, French, Italian, and Romanian. Arabia lives in San Telmo (Buenos Aires) with his wife, designer, and translator Camila Evia, and their son Cátulo.

Patricio Ferrari is a polyglot poet, literary translator, and editor. Born in Merlo to Piemontesi and Calabresi immigrants, he left Argentina at the age of sixteen to attend high school and play soccer in the United States as part of the Rotary Exchange Program. His most recent translations include Verde amargo / Bitter Green by Martin Corless-Smith (with Graciela S. Guglielmone; Buenos Aires Poetry, 2022), The Complete Works of Álvaro de Campos by Fernando Pessoa (with Margaret Jull Costa; New Directions, 2023), and Habla terreña (Field Talk) by Frank Stanford (with Guglielmone; Pre-Textos, 2023). His work has been featured in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, The New York Review of Books, Southwest Review, and Fence, among others. Since 2017, he has resided in New York City, where he is currently working on “Elsehere,” an exophonic trilogy of multilingual poetry. Additionally, he teaches the Master of Fine Arts at Sarah Lawrence College, collaborates with the Endangered Language Alliance, and hosts the World Poetry in Translation reading series.

Gramercy Park, NY

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Texto de la versión original en The Harvard Advocate, lxxxvi, 9, 26 de enero de 1909. Firmado: “T. S. E.”. No incluido en las reimpresiones de The Harvard Advocate de 1938 y 1948. Publicado por primera vez en The Undergraduate Poems of T. S. Eliot, 1948.

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Canción

La flor de luna se abre a la polilla,
la niebla se arrastra desde el mar;
un gran pájaro blanco, un búho nevado,
se desliza del árbol de aliso.

Más blancas son las flores que sostienes, Amor,
que la blanca niebla sobre el mar;
¿no tienes flores tropicales más brillantes,
con vida escarlata, para mí?

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Song

The moonflower opens to the moth,
The mist crawls in from sea;
A great white bird, a snowy owl,
Slips from the alder tree.

Whiter the flowers, Love, you hold,
Than the white mist on the sea;
Have you no brighter tropic flowers
With scarlet life, for me?

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Extraído de POEMS Written in Early Youth, by T.S. Eliot, Farrar, Straus & Giroux, New York, 1969, p. 22 | Traducción de Juan Arabia | Buenos Aires Poetry, 2021.